


Aoi Asahina's Despair Rehabilitation Program

by Fastern



Series: Fastern's Danganronpa Mostly-Canon-But-Not-Actually AU [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Humor, Child Abuse, Ensemble Cast, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Platonic Relationships, Post-Despair, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Posthumous Characters, Secret Relationship, Sexual Content, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 68,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6918445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fastern/pseuds/Fastern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Makoto returns to the Future Foundation, he doesn't leave the surviving Remnants of Despair unsupervised. To guide them on the path of hope, Aoi Asahina moves in as their 'den mother' and emotional support as they adjust to the new circumstances of their lives.</p><p>Memory loss has persisted beyond the Neo World Program, so Hajime and his friends barely remember their days as Ultimate Despair. However, they're forced to confront their past as mistakes catch up to them, and their lost memories threaten to swallow them whole. If the Remnants can't work through it, the temptation of despair may yet reclaim Junko's old followers...</p><p>It's an ensemble fic, so there's a little of everyone—but mostly focuses on Kazuichi, Fuyuhiko, Gundham, and Hina.</p><p> </p><p>  <b>Update 3: Feeling slightly less burnt out, and DRV3 has inspired me not to give up. :) Working on new chapter now. Cross your fingers!</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aoi Asahina, Ultimate Den Mother

 

**PAST**

…

                    …

                                       …

                                                          …H o w ** _bo ri n g…_**

* * *

** PRESENT **

Sakura had died a year ago.  
  
She wondered if Sakura died knowing that it was June, that they were on the verge of summer and that most of the people she’d ever known were dead. Hina wondered if, at the end, she’d had some brief recollection of their school life. Even though it was beyond irrational, Hina liked to think that she had. That Sakura died smiling because she remembered the stolen years.  
  
Most of all, Hina wondered if Sakura would be proud of her.  
  
She wondered if Sakura would’ve approved of the Future Foundation.  
  
But she couldn't know—  
  
Because Sakura was dead and—  
  
Her corpse. Smiling. Hunched over. Dead. Dead. DEAD—  
  
The nightmare ended.  
  
Hina gasped and lay still, afraid that she was still in her room at Hope’s Peak Academy, however foolish the notion was. Her room had possessed the faint smell of chlorine mixed with sweat. This one was strange and unfamiliar to her. Strange was good. As long as it didn’t smell like Hope’s Peak.  
  
Her eyes felt heavy—which meant that she hadn’t had a restful sleep. Good. Less sleep meant less potential for nightmares.  
  
She sat up and knocked her head against the bottom of the upper bunk so hard that her teeth sunk painfully into her tongue. Right. No more comfy Future Foundation beds.  
  
Hina sat on the edge of her bunk, leaned forwards, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wasn’t sure what had disturbed her sleep more: the nightmares or the gentle swaying of the boat. Despite being the Ultimate Swimmer, she’d never cared much for boating. She preferred being in the water as opposed to being on top of it, but the mode of transportation hadn’t been her idea.  
  
Sighing, she knew that the time was drawing near. Daylight streamed in through the porthole. Time to put on a brave face, even though she wanted nothing more than to collapse and break down into tears. No, not now. Not when people would be watching her. Not when she had a job to do and others were relying on her. Hina stood in front of the cracked mirror in the claustrophobic bathroom and practiced smiling until she was satisfied, before drying her stray tears and giving her face a good scrub.  
  
“Focus, Asahina,” she murmured. A mantra to keep herself in the present.  
  
Hina gathered the belongings left scattered around her cabin and stuffed them into her duffle bags. It took much longer than usual to decide what to wear. She wasn't even sure why she cared, but the Future Foundation uniform had never been to her taste, so she was glad for any excuse not to wear it.  
  
She emerged from her cabin wearing her usual choice of shorts and a tight-fitting tank top. It was difficult to avoid human contact on such a small ship, and she was reminded of it as she ran into one of the crew members. Not a member of the Future Foundation itself, but someone directly under the employ of one Byakuya Togami.  
  
“I was just coming to get you, Miss Asahina,” said the crew member. “We’ve just docked and Mr Naegi is waiting for you.”  
  
“Nice, thanks!” Hina said cheerily.  
  
She rushed onto the deck and was glad to see that the crew member hadn't been getting her hopes up. The vessel that had served as her home for the last four or so days now sat at a dock glistening under an unpolluted sun and speckled sky. Hina squinted, unaccustomed to this much sunlight. It reminded her of the days before the Tragedy, back when it was an occurrence only imagined by cynics, conspiracy theorists, and dystopian novels.  
  
Jabberwock Island certainly didn't disappoint its reputation as a slice of paradise. Although the dock was surrounded by abandoned warehouses and shipping equipment, she could see the settlement just beyond the property. Even from this distance, there was no mistaking the obvious scars of violence. Collapsed buildings, sullen faces, and people skirting in and out of the ruins they called their home. If the world hadn't ended, the island would still be a popular tourist destination. Now it was just a shadow of its former self. A beautiful shadow, but still a shadow. Just another place in the world where one could hide.  
  
Once she was finished taking in her surroundings, Hina saw who she was looking for. Not hard to miss—he was the only one standing at the dock.  
  
The grin that stretched her cheeks wasn’t painful this time. She sprinted to the end of the dock, discarded her bags, and threw herself into his arms.  
  
“Makoto!” she exclaimed.  
  
Makoto yelped and staggered under her grip, swinging her around as her legs left the ground. After recovering his balance, he returned the hug.  
  
“It’s so good to see you again!” Hina beamed at him.  
  
“I missed you, too, Hina,” said Makoto.  
  
She broke the physical contact and studied his face. His hair was askew, his eyes pale, and his facial muscles tight. His smile looked strained, but sincere.  
  
"Wow, you look awful," she concluded.  
  
"Um...yeah," Makoto agreed. "And you look...good. As always."  
  
She laughed. Not forced this time. "Hey, where's Kyoko? Didn't she want to come meet me?"  
  
"She's getting everything ready at the house, so she's gonna meet us there. Uh—do you need help with your bags?"  
  
"Nope, I got it!”  
  
Hina scooped up her bags and threw one over each shoulder. Makoto led the way across the shipyard, to the fence that bordered the property. A large hole had been torn in it, and they ducked underneath to escape the towering warehouses. The road wasn't paved—just a flat, neglected patch of dirt.  
  
"No car?" Hina assumed.  
  
"That's right," said Makoto. "We'll have to walk."  
  
"That's fine, I need to stretch my legs after being stuck on that ship. Are there any cars around here, anyways?"  
  
"No, it's too hard to get gas."  
  
"Huh. So does Byakuya walk everywhere too or does he make you carry him around on a litter?"  
  
"Well, no...but do me a favour and don't give him any ideas.”  
  
She giggled, and the laughter helped disguise her mood because she nearly burst into tears. Hina forced the laugh for a bit longer than was necessary.  
  
Still, it was good to be walking with Makoto again. She hadn't seen him since he'd made a break for Jabberwock Island with the Remnants of Despair in tow. Hina had spent most of that time at headquarters covering his tracks.  
  
Of course, she hadn't known then, so she hadn't been an emotional wreck. She'd been able to do her job with ease.  
  
Easy, Asahina, she thought. You got a job to do.  
  
It had been a month since the killings stopped and the surviving Remnants had emerged from the Neo World Program. Things had settled down at headquarters, just enough for her to put in an application for extended leave and depart before it was even approved. Maybe she'd be fired, but it was more likely that they would give her a slap on the wrist. After all, the Foundation kept a tight leash on the surviving Hope's Peak Academy students and she was no different. That allowed for a bit of leg room for bending the rules. But where she had bent them, Makoto had broken and then stamped on the pieces.  
  
Hina wanted nothing more than to immediately launch into a tirade about everything that had happened, but she couldn't risk it. Jabberwock Island wasn't uninhabited. The surviving citizens had built up a tiny settlement that barely registered on the maps. They paid them no mind as she and Makoto headed down the road, but if they overheard any sensitive information, it could be enough to derail the entire illicit operation.  
  
"How are Toko and Hiro?" Makoto asked.  
  
Hina bristled at the sound of Toko's name. "They're fine."  
  
"...What is it?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Just now, you had a funny look on your face. Is everything okay?"  
  
"Everything's fine," she lied. "Toko's been adding to her Byakuya shrine. From what I understand, she was caught stealing from his room."  
  
"Do I want to know what she tried to take?"  
  
"Probably not."  
  
Makoto led her down the road, which led away from the settlement. She wasn't exactly sure where they were going, except that it was inland and away from any surrounding buildings to discourage investigation. But at least the walk was nice. The road followed the beach and she imagined going for a swim in the ocean during her stay.  
  
They settled on making small talk until they were well clear of the settlement and any potential eavesdroppers. All the same, when they were clear, Hina looked over her shoulder and scanned the area for any people.  
  
“You think anyone's listening in?” Hina asked.  
  
“No, I think we’re good,” said Makoto. His tone had shifted from casual to professional and cool. “What’s the situation at headquarters?”  
  
"They've assigned a team to look for the Remnants, but they recalled all agents from Jabberwock Island. I planted a few false leads suggesting they were moved to a different location.”  
  
“I knew I could count on you, Hina.”  
  
"Heh, it wasn't just me. Hiro pretended that he 'foresaw' them leaving the island."  
  
"Did they actually take him seriously?"  
  
"It was one of more convincing performances, I admit. He even had me under his spell for a moment!"  
  
Makoto let out a breath he’d apparently been holding. “That’s a relief. It’s all good news. For the time being, it looks like the Remnants will be safe here.”  
  
“...But what if the Future Foundation realizes they never left?”  
  
“That’s why there’s still a work to be done.”  
  
"Makoto, look...You know...you know we might be able to hide them, but with all the evidence the Future Foundation has, they know you're involved."  
  
Makoto paused, and then said, "I don't care."  
  
“Makoto...”  
  
“I'll do whatever I can to protect them."  
  
“Maybe you should go into hiding, too.”  
  
“I can’t do that.”  
  
“Why the hell not?!” she burst. “If you go back, it’s all be over for you! They’ll charge you with treason!”  
  
Makoto stopped in his tracks. "If I try to run, the Future Foundation won't stop until they find me, and there's a chance they'll find the Remnants in the process."  
  
“C’mon, Makoto! You’re way more important than they are! Maybe they should face the consequences for all they’ve done!”  
  
“And trade in their lives? I know you don’t really believe that, Hina. If you did, you wouldn’t have agreed to this.  
  
It was the truth and she hated it. She wished she was a little more ruthless, that she could see war criminals as demons instead of people. That she possessed Taka's rigid sense of right and wrong and that she was the Ultimate Moral Compass—that she wasn't just a swimmer who'd ended up at the apocalypse.  
  
"I need to make a statement to the Future Foundation," Makoto explained. "I need to show them that we can't build a future if we destroy the only hope we have. That's what the Remnants are—that's what they represent. And...it's something I won't be able to do unless I go back and face the consequences for what happened here."  
  
Hina averted her gaze. "You're asking us to let you take the fall for all of us."  
  
"Yeah, I guess I am," Makoto agreed. "But if I take the fall, the Future Foundation wouldn't execute me like they would the Remnants."  
  
"They’ll only slander your reputation and lock you up for the rest of your life. Completely different.”  
  
Still, the steam fuelling her argument was lost. The situation was out of her control and she hated it. She couldn't force Makoto into hiding and it was clear to her that the Foundation was in the wrong. She just wished to God that it wasn't Makoto who had to put his neck on the line for the sole purpose of making a statement.  
  
They resumed their walk until the road split into two directions. One ran parallel to the beach, while the other wound up a hill and into the forest—unkempt and overgrown with foliage.  
  
“It’s not too far now,” said Makoto. There was a strange note in his voice. “Uh, Hina...you’re acting kinda weird. Is everything okay?”  
  
Shit. “Huh? Everything’s fine.”  
  
"Are you sure? You seem upset about something, and all that stuff you said about turning over the Remnants isn't like you."  
  
The trees parted, and up on the hillside she could see a house contrasting against the forest. She couldn't look at it. She didn't want to. Her thoughts blurred together like a puddle of ink drowning out whatever coherent words were written in her mind.  
  
Finally, she let out a small sigh as she realized that Makoto wasn't going to let her set foot in the house without an explanation.  
  
She said quietly, "My brother died."  
  
The reaction was exactly what she expected it to be. He flinched.  
  
"W—what?!" he exclaimed.  
  
"My brother died," Hina repeated. "He died in Towa City. You know what happened to your sister? How Ultimate Despair captured her and kept her prisoner? Well...he was their prisoner, too, and...and Toko told me that when she was there, she met him and..."  
  
She didn't finish her sentence. How could she? If she did, she would have to admit that it was her brother who'd died, that he had been mercilessly executed because of his association with her.  
  
"Toko only got a chance to tell me in person right before I got on the boat to come here," Hina finished.  
  
Before she could resist, Makoto embraced her. There was no joy in it this time, but she happily pressed her face into his shoulder. No tears right now, but if he kept squeezing maybe there would be. He mercifully didn't say anything.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Hina," he said quietly. "Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do?"  
  
"Nothing unless you turn into the Ultimate Time Traveller," Hina answered dryly. "I'll be okay. I have to be. I’m sorry for blowing up like that, it’s just...”  
  
"...If he really was a prisoner like Komaru...then Ultimate Despair is responsible," Makoto realized.  
  
"Yeah, that's it exactly."  
  
The wind rustled through the nearby trees as if the spirit of her brother shuddered to think that she was in proximity of the people indirectly responsible for his death.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Hina," Makoto apologized. "If I knew, I never would've asked you to do this."  
  
"No, I'm glad you did," Hina affirmed. "If anything, I need distance from the Future Foundation to think for a bit. It's a good distraction and I don't blame them for it. All of this is Junko's doing."  
  
She wiped her nose and put on a smile.  
  
“So, I’m not going to let you down, Makoto,” she declared. “That’s a promise from me, so you know I’m gonna keep it!”  
  
Makoto looked assured, however worried and gentle. The guy didn't have a tough bone in his body when it came to his friends.  
  
"We—uh, should get going, right?" Hina prompted him. "Kyoko's probably waiting and you know how she feels about tardiness."  
  
"R—right," Makoto nodded. "I don't think there should be any...oh, no."  
  
All colour drained from his face and he broke into a sudden sprint.  
  
The house was thoroughly out of place against the backdrop of the forest. It was a two-story house, narrow and tall, with faded peach-coloured paint and a jet black roof. If it was any other house, she wouldn't even spare a second glance to it, but she knew there was more to it, there was something deeper under its surface. Rather, the unassuming appearance seemed deliberate and methodical, as if someone had constructed it for the sole purpose of not drawing attention.  
  
Makoto, however, didn't head towards the house. He headed towards the detached garage, where an old truck was kept. Makoto ducked inside and she immediately saw what had drawn his attention.  
  
Sticking out from underneath the truck was a pair of legs.  
  
"Did you run away from the clinic again?!" Makoto exclaimed.  
  
"I was tired of waiting!" the owner of the legs answered.  
  
"That's not what the plan was..."  
  
"No shit. Your plan was to make me wait another hour."  
  
Makoto massaged his temples. “I...I can’t talk to you like this. Could you please come out from under there?”  
  
"I guess I could if I wanted to."  
  
The legs made no effort to move.  
  
"Oh, for crying out loud," Hina sighed. "Stand aside, Makoto."  
  
Hina seized the ankles and pulled—and out popped Kazuichi Soda.  
  
She only knew who he was because he'd tried to kill her back when he was Ultimate Despair. Some things were still the same. His eyes still glinted with mischief, his hair was still a terrible shade of pink, and his teeth were still pointed. However, there was a marked difference between then and now. First, it was immediately evident that he didn't recognize her. Second, he lacked the frenzied insanity that had defined his time as Ultimate Despair.  
  
"Hey, what'd you do that for?!" Kazuichi whined. He looked at her, and his expression shifted from shock to panic. "You're not a doctor, are you?!"  
  
"Uh...no?" Hina answered.  
  
"You don't sound sure of that!"  
  
Kazuichi rolled onto his feet and put some distance between him and her. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit stained with oil and a black beanie, which he tugged at apprehensively as he looked her over.  
  
"Listen, if you're a doctor, I don't want you anywhere near me," he said. "I've spent the last month being poked and prodded and interrogated, and I can't take it anymore!"  
  
"I'm not a doctor!" Hina asserted. "I'm Aoi Asahina, but everyone calls me Hina."  
  
His expression pinched with concentration. "Asahina? Hey, aren't you—"  
  
"The Ultimate Swimmer! I was with Makoto at Hope's Peak Academy.”  
  
Kazuichi faltered. No mischief in those eyes now. "Oh, you mean from the last time she got a whole bunch of students together to make 'em kill each other. Yeah, that was fun."  
  
Hina glanced at Makoto. His face was tight with unease. Kazuichi turned back to work on the truck engine, though he kept a watchful eye on her.  
  
"Well, if you're not a doctor...I'm busy," Kazuichi snapped. "So stop hovering."  
  
"But—" Hina began.  
  
"Busy."  
  
Makoto took her by the elbow and led her out of the garage. Once they were safely out of earshot, she turned on him.  
  
“Is he okay?” Hina asked.  
  
"He's just a little grumpy," Makoto answered. "He hated being locked up in the clinic for such a long time. I'm not surprised he left without permission again."  
  
"How many times has he done it?"  
  
"Um...I think this is the fifth or sixth time. I can't really blame him for it. First he and the others were essentially prisoners in the Neo World Program, and then they've been prisoners in the clinic—"  
  
“But that was for their protection!”  
  
"True, but Kazuichi doesn't exactly make the distinction," said Makoto. "He's not the only one, either. The others have gotten restless, too, but now that the Future Foundation has moved on, we shouldn't have any more problems."  
  
Makoto led her to the house and she was all too happy for the distraction. There would be time to deal with Kazuichi later. She followed him up the front steps and through the front door, which was a bright shade of periwinkle.  
  
“Uh, welcome home,” he smiled.  
  
Some home. The moment she entered, Hina realized that it was a lot smaller than it looked.  
  
The house, she thought, was barely suitable for a family of three, let alone a mismatched group of six. The ground floor consisted of a living from, a spare bedroom and bathroom, and a kitchen with screen windows that looked out the back of the property. The rooms were drafty, however bright and smelt faintly of fruit-scented air freshener. It rather reminded her of a grandmother's house.  
  
Upstairs didn't fair much better. There were two bedrooms and two bathrooms—one each for girls and boys. With hardly any room to spare, the beds had been stuffed in like sardines, allowing little comfort as she quickly surveyed the place. Kazuichi had already made himself at home in the boy's bedroom, having claimed the bed furthest from the door. His clothes were deposited on the floor and some tools lay on the side table.  
  
Hina had been assigned the bedroom on the first floor. It was a plain and boring place with blank walls and carpet the same shade of periwinkle as the front door. At least the Hope’s Peak Academy dorms had a sense of personality about them, but every room in the house was in a various state of sorry. When the tour was done, she found herself standing in the middle of it, her bags on the bed, and surveying the place as if she could will it to change just by staring.  
  
"I know this place wasn't built with comfort in mind, but isn't it a bit cramped for six people?" Hina asked.  
  
Makoto rubbed the back of his neck. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."  
  
She sighed. "I guess it can't be helped with the others in the cellar, huh? Where's the entrance to that, anyways?”  
  
To answer that, he led her back outside. She could hear Kazuichi swearing loudly from the garage, but ignored him and went to the rear of the house.  
  
The cellar doors were hidden behind thick bushes and locked with a hidden keypad. The doors didn't quite match the aesthetic of the house. Constructed out of thick metal, they looked like the entrance to a bomb shelter.  
  
"The password's 'Mukuro,' by the way," Makoto told her as he imputed the password.  
  
"Mukuro?" Hina repeated. "I thought for sure you'd use 11037. That's, like, your default password for everything."  
  
"Is not!"  
  
"It is too, Makoto Naegi," she teased. "Well, at least Mukuro's easy to remember."  
  
The cellar doors accepted the password and Makoto pulled them open. As it opened to darkness, Hina heard a voice drifting up from below.  
  
"Hiro, listen to me...Hiro, please calm down...No—that's not going to help."  
  
Hina followed Makoto down into the cellar. They entered a room with scant lighting and a sense of quiet resignation, filled to the brim with electronics and machinery that didn't seem to have any discernible purpose. In the centre was a column covered with monitors and wires—the central core of the Neo World Program. It was now inert but still hooked up to fifteen pods that surrounded it. She only thing she could see of its inhabitants was faint humanoid shapes floating underneath the green surface.  
  
Off to the side was the monitoring station where Makoto and Kyoko had spent most of their time when the program was running. It was a place Hina had only seen in video chats and it was surreal to finally be on the other end. Sitting at the station was Kyoko Kirigiri, herself, with a cell phone pressed to her ear and her expression decidedly neutral.  
  
"You can assure them that we will be returning to headquarters within the week," Kyoko was saying. "Please stay calm and don't do anything reckless. Goodbye."  
  
As she hung up, Hina could hear Hiro screaming in terror at the other end.  
  
"Is Hiro okay?" Makoto asked.  
  
"He's managing as well as Hiro can manage," Kyoko replied. She turned to Hina. "I'm glad you're here. I'll give you a quick briefing and the files you'll need. I suggest you keep them out of sight until the Remnants have acclimatized."  
  
Ah, Kyoko. The consummate professional.  
  
“C’mon, Kyoko, it’s me!” Hina laughed. Without waiting for permission, she gave Kyoko a bear-hug. “I missed you!”  
  
Kyoko’s hands were hesitant as she gently patted her on the back. For her sake, Hina didn’t hold on for too long.  
  
"I missed your company, as well," Kyoko admitted. "But onto matter at hand. Makoto, Byakuya, and I must be on the ship when it departs."  
  
"You don't need to act so formal, Kyoko," said Hina.  
  
"Did you review the files I sent you?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The files I sent you about the Remnants. Did you review them?"  
  
Whoops. "Definitely!"  
  
"...No you didn't. You're lying."  
  
"Is it really that important?"  
  
"You can't hope to know what you're up against if you don't research thoroughly, and I'm afraid Makoto is leaving you with the more difficult task. Now sit down and pay attention.”  
  
Kyoko wasn't giving her the benefit of choice as she took her firmly by the shoulder and sat her down in the chair.  
  
"Okay, okay, but I'm not taking notes this time," said Hina.  
  
"Perhaps if you'd taken notes during school, your grades wouldn't have been as low as they were," Kyoko replied.  
  
"Are...are you teasing me? Is the great Kyoko Kirigiri actually teasing me?!"  
  
“Please pay attention.”  
  
The moment Hina sat down, a familiar apparition lit up on the monitors. The being bore the face of Chihiro Fujisaki, and she had to quickly remind herself that it wasn't the pensive programmer who had once been her classmate. Still, she always hesitated and always thought that it was Chihiro back from the dead.  
  
“Hello, Hina!” Alter Ego beamed. “It’s good to see you again!”  
  
"Alter Ego will be a liaison between this base and us," said Kyoko. "Direct communication is inadvisable, so if you need to get in touch with us or review any information regarding Ultimate Despair, use Alter Ego."  
  
"I’m happy to help however I can!” Alter Ego said cheerfully.  
  
Kyoko swung the chair back around to face her. “Your mission is simple: make sure they don’t turn back into Ultimate Despair.”  
  
“Mission?” Hina echoed. “Since when did this become a mission? I thought we were supposed to be supporting—”  
  
"We are supporting them and part of that includes ensuring that they stay on the straight and narrow. That's why you're here, Hina.”  
  
Kyoko paced the room, hands folded neatly behind her back, and focused as always.  
  
"For the last month, the Remnants have been in hiding at the clinic located on this island," Kyoko explained. "Most of them required immediate medical treatment after they emerged from the Neo World Program because of traumatic injuries sustained during their Despair days. We also wanted to ensure that there would be no long-term physical repercussions as a result of the simulation."  
  
Her head bowed.  
  
"There is a more serious matter at hand," said Kyoko. "Despite having been removed from the Neo World Program, they have minimal recollection of their time at Hope's Peak or as Ultimate Despair."  
  
"What?! I thought those memories were supposed to come back!"  
  
"And they undoubtedly will. However, the process may take more time than we expected. Part of your job will be to correct this. If they continue to repress the memories, if they continue to deny their involvement with Junko, it will eventually devour their psyche. They need to confront that period of their lives and accept it as truth. Although...we do have an ulterior motivation."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"We're hoping they have some information on Ultimate Despair that might be relevant to the Future Foundation's current situation. If they do, it may put them in the Foundation's good graces."  
  
"That's a bit of a long shot, don't you think?"  
  
"Perhaps, but it's worth a try. I also recommend you host support group sessions to ease the recovery process. Discussing the events of the last three years may trigger their suppressed memories."  
  
"But I'm not a therapist!"  
  
"You don't have to be, Hina. You're here to supervise and support them."  
  
"What if things get out of hand?"  
  
"...Then we'll call in Miaya."  
  
Hina chewed on her lower lip. Miaya Gekkogahara was the Ultimate Therapist—a fellow member of the Future Foundation, and heavily involved in the creation of the Neo World Program. Despite her lofty role in the project, Makoto had been careful to not directly involve her in their plans and consulting her was the last resort, a contingency plan they all hoped to never have to use.  
  
"Exactly how much do the Remnants know about the arrangement?" Hina asked. "Do they even know I'm going to be staying here?"  
  
“We haven’t told them yet,” Kyoko admitted.  
  
“What the hell?! Have you just been keeping them completely in the dark?! Does Sonia even know about Novoselic?”  
  
There was a split second of hesitation in Kyoko’s eyes. Just enough to notice. “No, she doesn’t.”  
  
“That’s messed up! Why doesn’t she know?!”  
  
Kyoko whipped her head around. Her hair trailed behind her like a veil of snow. "Sonia's left leg was amputated."  
  
The realization slammed Hina back into her seat. She clutched the armrests. Her heart froze in its never-ending race.  
  
"Sonia was one of the Remnants who salvaged from Junko's corpse," Kyoko explained. "After she was removed from the Neo World Program, her body began to reject the limb, and there was little choice but to remove it. It has been replaced by an artificial one, but she needed time to recover emotionally and physically. Sonia needed to focus on the present—not to dwell on something that occurred during her memory lapse. A clinic is no place for her to learn that her country doesn't exist anymore.”  
  
Hina couldn't bring herself to agree with Kyoko's decision. All she could think about was when Junko had given them amnesia, and she couldn't remember that her entire family and the whole world she knew was gone, and how she'd wished to God that she'd known that it had fallen apart.  
  
"So when is she going to learn?” Hina asked.  
  
"I’ll leave that to your discretion,” said Kyoko, brushing past her. "I would advise that you don't leave it for too long."  
  
Hina hesitated. “Got to say, you’re putting a lot of faith in me. I’m...I’m not so sure that this is the best way to handle things.”  
  
"I know it's tough," said Makoto. "We're putting a lot of pressure on you, but I know you can do this."  
  
Makoto flashed a smile and she returned it. God, when he smiled like that, he reminded her of her brother.  
  
"The opposite of 'possible' isn't 'impossible'—it's 'challenge,'" said Hina.  
  
"I'm glad you came to that conclusion, because they have arrived," Kyoko announced.  
  
Hina turned in time to see them on the security camera facing the front porch. Kazuichi was holding the door open as Byakuya and the others trailed inside, dragging along their bags and bright, excited faces.  
  
They had no clue what they were walking into.  
  
"Let's go meet with them," said Kyoko. "They will have questions and I want to keep the answers as brief as possible.”  
  
She followed Kyoko and Makoto back through the cellar and to the open air. Hina hoped that Kyoko's plan would go off without a hitch, seeing as her plans typically involved equal parts brilliance and obscene amounts of danger.  
  
The living room was alive with chatter when Hina entered on the coattails of Makoto and Kyoko. Hina was used to facing crowds. She'd done so in competitions and from the stares at Hope's Peak and at the Future Foundation. But she wasn't used to seeing their faces, of seeing the range of expressions and people scattered before her. Of course, this time, it was different and there was no glint of despair on their faces. Not yet, anyways.  
  
Hina knew them. She knew them all, she knew their faces, their mannerisms, their talents. But at the same time, they were strangers—because no longer did they have expressions capable of mushrooming from eerily calm to livid at the drop of a pin. No more cultivated smiles and monologues about despair. Before her were not Junko's acolytes, but a collection of hopefuls crowding around Makoto like he was the Messiah. Kazuichi was the exception. He was too busy lounging on the couch and staring out the window to seemingly give a damn about Makoto's arrival.  
  
Sonia Nevermind was at the forefront, as dainty as a porcelain doll, though hardly breakable. Hina's gaze instinctively shifted to her legs. Sure enough, she was limping, and Hina had seen enough now to recognize the sight of a cleverly disguised synthetic leg. It was almost identical to the real one, but Hina recognized the pinched expression as coming from pain—not stress.  
  
Akane Owari was right on her heel. An Amazonian young woman who dwarfed all those around her with her sheer presence of character, Hina had competed with her back at Hope's Peak. It was amazing how her confidence seemed unscathed as she gave Hina a friendly smile.  
  
It was Hajime that made her falter, though.  
  
Hajime Hinata. Izuru Kamukura. Two sides of the same coin. But the boy standing in front of her was definitely Hajime...but his eyes were red.  
  
The smile on her face felt like a too-tight sweater as she made eye contact with Hajime. He noticed, and the air shifted, and he broke eye contact to stare at the floor.  
  
"Makoto, it is good to see you again!" Sonia exclaimed, brimming with joy. "We have been most concerned with the state of affairs and have many questions!"  
  
"I wasn't concerned about anything," said Akane.  
  
"The only thing you're ever concerned about is your next meal," Kazuichi pointed out.  
  
"Yeah. So?"  
  
Makoto cleared his throat, though it may as well have been a gunshot for the way heads turned.  
  
"Sorry, there's a lot of things we need to go over," said Makoto. "Uh, first of all. Everyone, this is Aoi Asahina, the former Ultimate Swimmer.  
  
"Still the Ultimate Swimmer, if you don't mind," Hina chuckled. "You guys can call me Hina, though."  
  
Unsurprisingly, Sonia was the first to act. She stepped forwards and gave a lopsided courtesy.  
  
"Hello!" Sonia beamed. "My name is Sonia Nevermind, Princess of Novoselic. It is a privilege to meet you.”  
  
“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you and your..." Hina squinted, to be sure she wasn't imagining things. "And your...hamsters?"  
  
She wasn't mistaken. Perched on Sonia's shoulders was a quartet of hamsters. Somehow it seemed out of place.  
  
"Hm?" Sonia glanced at the hamsters. "Oh, yes! These are the Four Dark Devas of Destruction. I'm looking after them while Gundham is...incapacitated."  
  
It was difficult not to miss the way Kazuichi rolled his eyes.  
  
"I'm Hajime Hinata," Hajime unnecessarily introduced himself. He extended his hand.  
  
So formal. Hina played along and shook his hand.  
  
"C'mon, Hajime, introduce yourself with a little more gusto," Akane butted Hajime out of the way and flexed her arm. "What's up? I'm Akane Owari, and don't you forget it!"  
  
Hina smiled and was just about to reply, when a sharp and distinctive voice broke the air.  
  
"Are you done playing nice?"  
  
What with the others dominating the picture, Hina had completely overlooked someone lurking in the corner. He leaned against the wall, arms firmly folded. His face was composed, careful and practised. A cool mask protecting something him, much like the patch over his right eye. But just when she thought she saw it, the vulnerability faded and the lines on his forehead became pronounced as his eyebrow slammed over his exposed eye.  
  
"C'mon, Fuyuhiko!" Akane groaned. "Play nice and say hello!"  
  
His expression was unbalanced. "Tch, I don't think so."  
  
"Er—that's Fuyuhiko," Hajime intervened. "He's nice once you get to know him."  
  
"That's debatable," Kazuichi chuckled.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Fuyuhiko," Hina chanced a smile that Fuyuhiko didn't return. She couldn't help but let her eyes wander to his exposed hands.  
  
He was missing both of his small fingers and the ring finger on his left hand. The stare didn't go unnoticed.  
  
"What, never seen a guy with missing fingers before?" Fuyuhiko barked. "Got something you want to say about it?!”  
  
"Oh—sorry, I didn't mean to stare," Hina apologized.  
  
"Good, then you know not to do it," Fuyuhiko snarled. "I will fucking cut you if I catch you doing it again."  
  
Hajime gave her a hopeful and tense smile. "Seriously, he's nice once you get to know him."  
  
"If you're done with introducing yourselves, pay attention," Byakuya spoke for the first time, and it was a voice difficult to miss. "Our time is too valuable to be wasted on social etiquette."  
  
“Tactful as always, Byakuya,” Hina murmured.  
  
"I would prefer if we got to the point," said Byakuya. "After all, we don't have a lot of time to waste here."  
  
"Whatever do you mean?" Sonia asked.  
  
Makoto glanced at Kyoko. Whether it was for confirmation or assurance, Hina couldn't be sure, but he stepped forwards.  
  
"Byakuya, Kyoko, and I are returning to the Future Foundation," he announced.  
  
Kazuichi suddenly sat bolt upright on the couch. "WHAT?!"  
  
He wasn't alone with this reaction. Collective gasps and sounds of protest all around.  
  
"You can’t do that!” Hajime exclaimed.  
  
“You promised you would help us!” Sonia added.  
  
"Calm down, we're not abandoning that promise," Kyoko reassured them. "The Future Foundation is still hunting for you and every minute that we are not there to conceal the truth creates a risk that they will locate this sanctuary."  
  
"But...but they know you're involved!" Hajime pointed out.  
  
"Hajime is right," Sonia agreed. "The Foundation is aware of what you have done for us. They will not take kindly to it."  
  
"They're gonna be super pissed off!" exclaimed Akane.  
  
"You're right," Makoto nodded gravely. "I suspect it's only a matter of time before I'm arrested."  
  
"They cannot do that!" Sonia protested.  
  
"True—not without hard evidence," said Kyoko. "It could be months before they have gathered enough to convict Makoto of anything."  
  
"Hey, Byakuya—can't you do something about this?" Akane demanded.  
  
"Do I look like I own the Future Foundation?" Byakuya drawled. "If I had that kind of power, I wouldn't have to bother with such trifles."  
  
"...You know, I think I liked fake Byakuya better."  
  
"Of course you did. He was inferior."  
  
"You cannot do this!" Sonia objected. "I cannot accept it! You can hide here, Makoto—with us!"  
  
"Believe me, I'd like to stay," said Makoto. "But it's a matter of principle. I have to show the Future Foundation that they were in the wrong, and the only way I can do that is if I accept the consequences. If the Foundation had succeeded in executing you guys, that would mean that they had fallen into despair themselves, that they'd given up all hope of undoing the damage Junko did."  
  
The Remnants' gazes were tense and childlike.  
  
"We knew and accepted the risks when we did this," said Kyoko. "...Even Byakuya."  
  
"Although my motivations were vastly different," Byakuya asserted. "Unlike Makoto, I don't put my trust in blind optimism and foolish sentimentality."  
  
" Big surprise," Kazuichi muttered.  
  
"There's something else you need to know," Makoto continued. "Hina's going to be staying here to keep an eye on you."  
  
"You mean to make sure we don't go all Ultimate Despair on your asses?" Kazuichi interpreted.  
  
"Yes," said Byakuya.  
  
"No!" Makoto interrupted. "No, that's—just—precautionary! That's all it is. The idea is that Hina's going to help you recover your memories and whatever comes after that. Think of her as your...um...Think of her as your den mother."  
  
"Aw, man, did you have to call me that?" Hina asked.  
  
"Den mother?" Fuyuhiko snarled. "Are you fucking serious?! We do not need a babysitter!"  
  
"Hina's not a babysitter," Kyoko corrected him. "Hina is here to help however she can."  
  
"Sounds suspiciously like a babysitter to me," Fuyuhiko snapped. "Let's face it. At the end of the day, you don't trust us to not revert back to Ultimate Despair. You practically expect it!"  
  
Kyoko Kirigiri was always calm. Always stoic. But now, there was the slightest spark of fire behind her eyes.  
  
"This isn't a debate," said Kyoko. "You reverting back to Ultimate Despair is a worst case scenario that Hina is here to prevent. She will be organizing support group sessions and supervising your efforts to revive your friends. And the support groups are mandatory."  
  
“Support group?” Fuyuhiko echoed. He rounded on Hajime, suddenly still and motionless like Hajime's opinion was the only one that mattered. “Is she for real? Do I look like a need a support group?!”  
  
"This is an informal arrangement, but it's the best we can do under the circumstances," said Kyoko. "If the Future Foundation had endorsed this project, we would have access to counsellors and after what you five have been through, therapy would be the standard approach. Given that we don't have that option, we went for the next best thing. As I said, these sessions are mandatory. Officially, Hina will be in charge around here, but even that arrangement is informal. You will have full autonomy over your actions so long as you agree to the support group."  
  
"I guess that makes sense and all, but why Hina?" Akane asked. "I mean—no offence, Hina, you seem cool and all, but you don't look like a shrink to me."  
  
"Miss Asahina was the logical choice," said Byakuya. "The rest of us would be missed from headquarters. Hina wouldn't."  
  
“Yeah, that’s exactly it,” Hina agreed. When she realized what she’d just agreed with, she rounded on him. “Hey!”  
  
"I DON'T NEED THERAPY!" Fuyuhiko shouted in a way that suggested he needed therapy.  
  
"We're not asking you to lie down on a couch and confess your deepest, darkest secrets," said Kyoko. "I figured all of those out, anyways, so there would be no point to it."  
  
Hina couldn't tell if she was joking or not. It was a standard Kyoko thing.  
  
"We're simply suggesting that the five of you—meditated by Hina—work together through the process of recovering your memories."  
  
"What recovery?" Kazuichi groaned. "I feel fine!"  
  
"I've never been better," said Akane.  
  
"And when your memories return, what then?" Kyoko asked. "The convenience of amnesia isn't going to last forever and the day that it ends will be a day of reckoning."  
  
"It's not that we don't trust you," said Makoto. "We just want you to be safe here."  
  
"Tch, like we need protection," Fuyuhiko grumbled.  
  
"In case you forgot, Fuyuhiko, the Future Foundation thinks we're the bad guys," Kazuichi reminded him.  
  
"We are the bad guys."  
  
The others shifted uncomfortably, but Fuyuhiko was motionless.  
  
"What?" Fuyuhiko barked. "Did you forget that while we were at the clinic?"  
  
"It's not the Foundation we're worried about," said Kyoko. "We're protecting you from yourselves."  
  
"That's bullshit!"  
  
"I told you he would react like this," Byakuya scoffed. "You should be grateful we spent our precious time on you, Kuzuryu."  
  
If Byakuya had kept his damn mouth shut, perhaps they could've defused Fuyuhiko's temper. Perhaps he would have run his mouth off for a minute before losing steam. Instead, there was newfound fury etched in every line in Fuyuhiko's face.  
  
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Fuyuhiko yelled. "We're not gonna sit in a circle and sing 'Kumbaya' just because you guys say we have to! If I wanted shit from you, I would've asked!"  
  
"Adorable," Byakuya drawled. "You throw around your weight as though the Kuzuryu name still holds influence. Continue squealing all you want. I am a Togami and you cannot intimidate me."  
  
"Oh, that fucking does it—"  
  
Akane moved like a choreographed dancer. In one, smooth motion, she got between Byakuya and Fuyuhiko, grabbed the latter by the waist, and threw him over her shoulder.  
  
"Okay, you need a time out!" she announced.  
  
"PUT—ME—DOWN!" Fuyuhiko screamed.  
  
Akane hauled Fuyuhiko up the stairs—with him swearing the whole way. They could hear the two struggling on the floor above. Still, no one seemed especially phased or even surprised by Fuyuhiko's extreme reaction.  
  
"I really hope they don't break another window," Hajime said casually.  
  
Kyoko cleared her throat. "Byakuya is right on one point. We did anticipate this reaction from him. Fuyuhiko has never quite forgiven us for the deception involved in the Neo World Program."  
  
"It wasn't like it was an intentional deception," said Hajime.  
  
"True, but impartially has never been his strongest characteristic."  
  
"So...what happens now?" Hajime asked quietly.  
  
"Now, we depart," Kyoko announced.  
  
"So soon?!"  
  
"It's short notice, but necessary. I'm afraid we can't delay our return to headquarters."  
  
The atmosphere was grim as Makoto, Kyoko, and Byakuya bade farewell to the Remnants. Hina hung back, giving them space and trying her best not to eavesdrop. She didn't have to eavesdrop to recognize the expressions, though—expressions drawn as tight as her throat felt at that moment.  
  
She waited until the goodbyes had been said before meeting Makoto, Kyoko, and Byakuya on the porch. Hina shut the door firmly behind her and folded her arms. The sun was now at its peak, and beyond the trees, she could see the ship waiting at the dock.  
  
"Remember, if you need to contact us, use Alter Ego," Kyoko reminded her. "He's hooked up to the security system installed in the house, so he'll monitor your situation and contact us in the event of an emergency."  
  
"Great, more being watched by security cameras," Hina sighed.  
  
"At least the one using the security system won't try to make you kill each other."  
  
"Are you sure? Because I really don't want to end up in that situation again."  
  
Kyoko hesitated, then firmly gripped her shoulder. “You’ll do fine, Hina.”  
  
"You'll have to do better than 'fine,'" Byakuya snapped. "My time is too valuable to waste any more of it on the Remnants and I won't be returning to correct the mistakes you'll inevitably make."  
  
"Glad you have faith in me, Byakuya," Hina sighed. She tried not to take his condescending comments too personally—but he sure was making it difficult.  
  
"Even if Byakuya doesn't have faith in you, Kyoko and I do," said Makoto. "Everything'll work out, Hina."  
  
"Of course it will!" she gave him a hopeful smile. "You guys worry about the Future Foundation and let handle these guys."  
  
Makoto, Kyoko, and Byakuya finally set off down the driveway and out of sight. Hina waved until they were gone from view, and the last she saw of Makoto, he was looking over his shoulder, hand extended. Her heart raced as if she'd just run a marathon, suddenly struck with the knowledge that she was in killing distance of the Ultimate Despair.  
  
She looked back and stared at the periwinkle door. No matter who they were now, no matter how friendly they seemed and how severe the amnesia, that didn't change the fact that there was blood on their hands. Too much blood. Still, she thought of the friends who had died at Hope's Peak—the ones Junko had killed. Not just friends like Chihiro, Taka, and Sayaka—but the ones who'd died in the riots, the ones whose spirits had been killed by despair.  
  
Hina inhaled sharply and with the breath came renewed energy. She was going to change it. She couldn't save the world, but she could save a small portion of it in the form of her new students.  
  
Just then, she heard the sound of breaking glass sounding from somewhere above her.  
  
She let out a long sigh. Definitely a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM BREAKING DOWN THE DOOR HERE TO write fanfic.
> 
> As usual, I have a feeling I'm going to get extremely carried away with this story, but here goes nothing. Since Danganronpa 3 doesn't come out until July and I have a feeling some of the events in that will influence this story, some things might change here and there. However, I'm keeping some things as vague as possible in the hopes that somehow this fic will remain canon compliant??? Although it probably won't??? Because it's a fanfic???
> 
> Still, I'm excited to be able to contribute to this fandom and would appreciate feedback!
> 
> Minor edits done on: 16/4/2016 and 13/10/2016


	2. Nevermind That

** PAST **

Sonia’s supple lips press against his ear, and her whisper breaks the madness.

“I knew I could count on you, Kazuichi,” she coos. “I love you so much.”

She’s lying, but he loves the illusion. Nothing tastes quite as sweet as the despair of unrequited love.

* * *

**PRESENT**

“RISE AND SHINE, SLEEPYHEADS!”  
  
Kazuichi shrieked and fell out of bed with a tremendous crash.  
  
Legs tangled in his bedsheets, he flailed for a minute before coming to a rest. Long shadows and sunlight created a patchwork of light in the bedroom. Hajime bolted upright in his bed, hair askew and eyes wide. Fuyuhiko pulled the covers over his head.  
  
And in the doorway was Aoi Asahina with a megaphone.  
  
“IT’S TIME FOR EARLY MORNING CALISTHENICS TO REJUVENATE YOUR MIND AND BODY!” Hina shouted through the megaphone. “YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES TO GET YOUR PREFERABLY DRESSED BUTTS DOWNSTAIRS!”  
  
“Are you kidding me?!” Kazuichi exclaimed. “What time is it?!”  
  
“IT’S TIME FOR EARLY MORNING CALISTHENICS! TEN MINUTES, GENTLEMEN!”  
  
Hina slammed the door shut. A heartbeat later, Kazuichi heard her giving the girls a similar wake-up call. Fuyuhiko fumbled for the alarm clock on his side table.  
  
"Are you fucking serious?!" he exclaimed. "It's only five!"  
  
“I don’t think she cares,” Hajime sighed and lay back in bed, covering his face with his pillow. “It’s like Monokuma Tai Chi all over again.”  
  
They all shuddered at the memory. Nevertheless, they dragged themselves out of bed and dressed in silence. Kazuichi knotted the fabric of his orange jumpsuit in his fingers.  
  
“She said clothes were optional, right?” Kazuichi asked.  
  
That earned him a glower from Hajime and Fuyuhiko. Still, at least he could participate in calisthenics with the knowledge that they were going to eat afterward. Just the thought of Strawberry and Grape House was enough to make him nauseous with the pangs of hunger. It was enough motivation to get dressed and trail after the others.  
  
Kazuichi, Hajime, and Fuyuhiko went to stand in the backyard, where a cool morning breeze rustled the trees. The sun glanced over the horizon, casting the long shadows of the trees across the grass.  
  
"This is fucking stupid," Fuyuhiko complained. "What the hell was Makoto thinking?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Hajime asked.  
  
"Wake up, Hajime. Why did Makoto leave her here?"  
  
"You mean Hina?"  
  
"I mean her! Doesn't it bother you that he doesn't trust us?"  
  
"I don't think that's why Hina's here."  
  
"Hey, at least she's easy on the eyes," Kazuichi shrugged.  
  
"Of course you'd say that," Fuyuhiko grumbled.  
  
"I'm just trying to look on the bright side. Are you getting angry again?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Is this gonna end with another broken window?"  
  
"I didn't break the last one! That was Akane's fault!"  
  
"You're the one who encouraged her to head butt the window."  
  
"I didn't think she would actually do it!"  
  
The back door burst open. Hina hopped out, megaphone first. She was followed closely by Sonia and Akane.  
  
"I'M SENSING A LOT OF NEGATIVITY AROUND HERE!" Hina announced. "Y'KNOW WHAT'LL CLEAR THAT RIGHT UP? SOME PUSH-UPS!"  
  
Fuyuhiko scowled, and the scowl didn't go unnoticed. Hina marched up and stuffed the megaphone in his face.  
  
"YOU NEED AN ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT!" Hina shouted. "DROP AND GIVE ME TWENTY, KUZURYU!"  
  
"Fuck off!" Fuyuhiko barked.  
  
"THAT'S WHAT I CALL A NEGATIVE ATTITUDE! DROP AND GIVE ME THIRTY!"  
  
"Are you fucking kidding—"  
  
" _FORTY!_ DROP!”  
  
Hina and Fuyuhiko entered a staring contest. Despite her tender appearance, there was a strange ferocity in Hina's gaze.  
  
After a short time of staring, Fuyuhiko grumbled, discarded his tie, dropped to the ground, and did as he was told.  
  
Hina had the rest of them go through a slightly less rigorous routine—with the exception of Sonia, who cheered them on from the back steps. By the time they were finished, Fuyuhiko's face flushed with embarrassment and exhaustion. Hina, however, was alight with energy. She chased them all with the megaphone back into the house and supervised the making of a 'well-balanced' breakfast.  
  
Normally Kazuichi skipped breakfast, opting for soft drinks or coffee, but he had a feeling Hina wasn't going to let him get away with it. And she didn’t. When he tried to sneak back outside, Hina chased him around the house with the megaphone until forcing him back into the kitchen.  
  
It was only when they were gathered around the table, eggs and rice simmering, that Hina finally put the megaphone down. She looked like a proud mother.  
  
"Nice work, everyone!" Hina said cheerfully. "Don't you feel ready to take on the day now?"  
  
No one replied. Kazuichi, Fuyuhiko, Hajime, and Sonia couldn't speak because they were stunned speechless. Akane was too busy stuffing her face.  
  
"That's the spirit!" Hina gave them a thumbs up. "I'm now issuing a new house rule. Every morning we'll gather for breakfast and three times a week, we'll gather before that to do calisthenics."  
  
"I think it is a splendid idea," said Sonia. "I look forwards to participating once I have recovered."  
  
"I—I agree with Miss Sonia," Kazuichi piped up.  
  
"Big surprise," Fuyuhiko snarled. "I don't see why we have to do anything this early in the morning. It's too early to do anything except sleep."  
  
"Yeah, even Monokuma Tai Chi started at seven-thirty," said Hajime.  
  
Hina sighed. "Okay, because I like you guys, I'll push the time to eight. But that's as late as I'm willing to go! You don't want to waste too much of the morning, do you?"  
  
Murmurs of discontent around the table. Only Sonia nodded, while Akane was still too busy with her food.  
  
"Boy, for guys who just did calisthenics, you sure look glum," Hina mumbled. "So...I've decided that we're going to have our first support group this evening."  
  
"I'm not going along with this bullshit," Fuyuhiko snapped.  
  
"If you don't go along with it, I'll hogtie you," Hina threatened.  
  
"Lay one finger on me—"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, and you'll cut it off. I'm not giving you an option, Fuyuhiko. Either you play along, or I tie you up.”  
  
Sonia leaned across the table and reached out. He instinctively recoiled as her delicate had swept over the stubs of his missing fingers.  
  
"Please do not make this difficult, Fuyuhiko," Sonia pleaded. "Give it a chance. Hina is trying to help us."  
  
Kazuichi spotted the precise moment when Fuyuhiko's will crumbled. Leaning back in his seat, he folded his arms and murmured something that sounded vaguely affirmative.  
  
"Great!" Hina grinned. "We'll have it after dinner. In the meantime, we should figure out chores."  
  
"Chores?!" Kazuichi groaned. "Aw, man. I'm beginning to miss Usami's eternal vacation."  
  
"You don't have to do any right now, seeing as all just moved in," said Hina. "Complaining won't get you any sympathy from me, either. I've decided that we should come up with a rotating schedule for who does what—cooking, cleaning, laundry, and so on."  
  
"Laundry?" Kazuichi repeated. Fantasies about handling Sonia's underwater danced through his mind. "Does that mean that—"  
  
"No."  
  
“Huh?”  
  
"I know what you're thinking, and no. Boys and girls will do their laundry separately, with someone of the right gender assigned to do it."  
  
His fantasies shattered.  
  
"I don't want to handle Kazuichi's underwear!" Fuyuhiko exclaimed.  
  
"The feeling's mutual!" Kazuichi shouted. "Wait—no...That came out wrong. What I meant to say is that I don't want to handle _your_ underwear. There's nothing wrong with _my_ underwear.  
  
"You don't have to be so dramatic," said Hajime. I've handled everyone's underwear and it's not that big a deal."  
  
Sonia's fork clattered to the floor. "Hajime! You promised you wouldn't tell anyone!"  
  
"I'm—I'm sorry! It slipped out!"  
  
"W—What?!" Kazuichi exclaimed. "What are you talking about? You’ve seen Miss Sonia's underwear?"  
  
"Let us stop discussing this!"  Sonia pleaded.  
  
"What kind of panties does Sonia wear, Hajime?" Akane asked.  
  
"I don't think we need to know that," said Hina.  
  
"I want to know!" Kazuichi exclaimed.  
  
"Me too!" Akane agreed.  
  
"Okay, guys, let's cool off," Hina interrupted. "I really don't want to talk about underwear when we're eat—where the hell did my food go?"  
  
Hina looked down at her empty place, and then to Akane beside her. Akane had somehow acquired an extra plate.  
  
"It was gettin' cold!" exclaimed Akane. "I couldn't let it go to the waste!"  
  
Hina sighed and helped herself to another bowl of rice.  
  
“Oh, and while we’re on the subject, I have another house rule,” said Hina. She pointed at Fuyuhiko. “No smoking in the house!”  
  
"W—what?!" Fuyuhiko just about leapt out of his seat. "How do you know about that?!"  
  
Hina winked. "I'm psychic."  
  
"...That's bullshit."  
  
She laughed. "Sorry, a lame joke I picked up from an old friend. No, I saw you sneaking out in the middle of the night to light up."  
  
"Fuyuhiko, I thought you were going to give that up," said Sonia.  
  
"It's not my fault I woke up as a damn smoker!" Fuyuhiko exclaimed. "Blame Ultimate Despair me! It was his idea!"  
  
"Well, you don't have to sneak around and do it, but try not to do it in the house," Hina urged. "I don't want this place stinking of cigarettes.”  
  
Fuyuhiko grumbled. "Got any other fucking laws?"  
  
"Like it or not, I'm here to stay, Fuyuhiko."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
Fuyuhiko pushed away from the table, shoved past Kazuichi's chair, and left the room. He left behind a heavy silence that weighed down the atmosphere. Hina looked drawn and suddenly much smaller.  
  
"It's not your fault," said Hajime. "It's going to take him a while to come around."  
  
"Yeah, I just hoped he'd be more willing to cooperate," Hina sighed. "I should've read Kyoko's psychological profiles more carefully."  
  
"Psychological profiles? Does she really have psychological profiles of us?"  
  
"Er—I've said too much. How'd you guys sleep last night?”  
  
The rest of breakfast passed without incident. Even Akane's appetite seemed satiated, while eagerly trading ideas with Hina about sports. Kazuichi didn't pay them much attention, though he caught parts about the pair agreeing to train together. For whatever reason. It wasn't like there were any sports competitions at the end of the world, but as long as it kept Akane occupied and happy, he didn't see the harm in it. After even the topic of sports exhausted itself, Hina organized them for the day. She agreed to give them the day off so that she could create a timetable for chores and she was going to go into town to gather the parts needed to repair the broken window.  
  
Sonia was the first to excuse herself. She placed her dishes in the sink, wobbling slightly on her fake leg. Kazuichi waited until she was just exiting the back door before also excusing himself and rushing after her.  
  
He was amazed at Sonia's speedy recovery. Even though she'd only had a prosthetic leg for a few weeks, she still moved with the grace and precision expected of a princess. Kazuichi was tempted to just watch her walk. Hell, even that was intoxicating—the way she perfectly balanced herself as though nothing was wrong. Still, he got a hold of his senses and chased her as she headed across the lawn.  
  
“Hey, Miss Sonia!” he called. “I was wondering—if you feel up for it, do you want to go for a walk?"  
  
"No, thank you," Sonia replied.  
  
"Oh. Um...well...if you go for a walk by yourself...could I walk behind you?"  
  
"You may not."  
  
"Okay, no walking. Um...how about if—"  
  
"Kazuichi, I have a favour to ask of you," Sonia said brightly, swinging around to face him.  
  
“You...You do? Really?”  
  
"There is a truck in the garage, yes? I was thinking that it would be pleasant if I was able to go for a ride in it. But, seeing as it is broken..."  
  
"I'll have it working again in no time!"  
  
Before Sonia could reply, Kazuichi sprinted to the garage. He was just going back past the house when Hajime emerged and followed him, hands stuffed deep in his pockets.  
  
"You know she just said that to get rid of you, right?" Hajime said.  
  
"Who cares?" Kazuichi beamed. "If I do it, maybe she'll be impressed that I went to the trouble!”  
  
"But...you can't get gas around here, so even if you get the truck working, it's not like you can drive anywhere. And on top of that, you don't have a license and you get carsick."  
  
“Do you really think anyone cares about having a driver's license in the apocalypse?”  
  
After entering the garage, Kazuichi went to prop up the car hood. Hajime folded his arms and leaned against the workbench, looking far more serious than he ever had in the simulation.  
  
"You don't have to go anywhere to find a use for a car," Kazuichi chuckled. "Know what I mean?"  
  
"No, and I'm not sure I want to," said Hajime.  
  
"C'mon, you don't have to go anywhere in a car to have a good time with a girl!"  
  
"How old are you again?"  
  
"It's been my fantasy for forever! Two things I love in one place!"  
  
"I don't think Sonia's gonna agree to that."  
  
"Hey, you're supposed to be my Soul Friend! You have to entertain my fantasies, not shoot them down!”  
  
"As your Soul Friend, it's my civic responsibility to make sure I shoot down the ones you can't realistically achieve."  
  
"Are you saying I don't have a shot with Miss Sonia?!"  
  
"Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying.”  
  
"Well...I'm gonna prove you wrong!"  
  
"...Then what's the point of me being your 'Soul Friend?'"  
  
Kazuichi ignored him and ducked back into the engine. Everything was so neglected from lack of use that any other mechanic would have given it up for dead. But for the Ultimate Mechanic, it was child's play.  
  
"Ugh, I need parts," Kazuichi muttered. "Do you think Hina would yell at me if I dismantled the oven?"  
  
"Uh...we need that to cook," Hajime pointed out.  
  
"I'd put it back together again! Maybe add a rocket launcher."  
  
"Why would an oven need a rocket launcher?"  
  
"Well—the oven wouldn't, stupid! I'm saying that I could turn the oven into a booby trap in case we're ever attacked!"  
  
"What good would that do?! If we were ever attacked, I don't think our attackers would stop to cook something."  
  
"What if they were hungry?"  
  
"You're missing the point."  
  
"Fine, fine, I'll leave the oven alone. Do you think there's anything around here Hina wouldn't miss? Like...the washing machine?"  
  
"We need that to wash clothes!"  
  
"What about the TV?"  
  
"Sonia wouldn't be able to watch her soap operas."  
  
"Oh, right! Dammit, the TV would've been perfect...Hey, do you think Fuyuhiko is attached to his alarm clock?"  
  
"I don't see how you can repair a car engine with an alarm clock."  
  
"Pft, of course you wouldn't," Kazuichi rolled his eyes. "I wonder if there's an old lawn mower around here…"  
  
Kazuichi went to the back of the garage. There was a door leading to a small storage area filled to the brim with discarded gardening equipment. He hadn't had the chance to comb through the remains. There was an old reel mower, though. Not exactly what he had in mind, but enough bits and bobs to make a few small modifications.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Hajime shifted and went towards the engine.  
  
"Hey, don't mess with anything over there," Kazuichi snapped.  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it," Hajime said absently. "So, Fuyuhiko's made his opinion of Hina pretty clear. What do you think of her, though?"  
  
Ugh, why did he have to bring this up now? "I dunno—I guess she's okay. I think it's kinda pointless to leave her here, though. I mean, even if we go all Ultimate Despair, she's outnumbered five to one."  
  
"That's a grim thought..."  
  
"I'm not saying it's gonna happen! It’s just facts! Hey, Kyoko seems like the type to have a contingency plan for everything. Y’think she has one in place in case we go Ultimate Despair?"  
  
“I try not to think about it.”  
  
“What do you think it is? Will she try to nuke us? Introduce a biological weapon? Create super mechs to wipe us out?”  
  
“She’s not Junko!”  
  
“Yeah, but she’s just as smart. I just think that we should be prepared for—”  
  
 _VHROOM._  
  
Kazuichi stood upright so quickly that he knocked his head on the bottom of the shelf he was knelt under. Swinging out of the storage area, he found the truck vibrating—the engine grating and loud and so sweet that he almost forgot to be surprised. But the fact of the matter was that it hadn't turned on by itself. Hurrying around the truck, he found Hajime under the hood.  
  
"What...What did you do?!" Kazuichi demanded.  
  
"I, uh, turned it on," Hajime answered.  
  
"How?! It was, like, broken! With a capital 'B!'"  
  
"I'm—I'm not sure. I just...did it."  
  
"Hajime, you've been holding out on me! Since when do you know anything about cars?!"  
  
"But I don't! I think."  
  
And now he'd adopted Chiaki's motto. Kazuichi studied his friend's face. Hajime was somewhere faraway—his hands trembling.  
  
"Hey, uh, you look kinda weird," Kazuichi remarked. His brow furrowed as he came to a realization. "Wait...didn't...didn't Izuru have a whole bunch of talents?"  
  
Hajime was unable to speak. He nodded hard enough to shake something loose.  
  
"Holy shit! You're turning back into Izuru!"  
  
"What?! No!"  
  
Kazuichi seized his shoulders and violently shook him.  
  
"HAJIME, ARE YOU IN THERE?!" Kazuichi screamed. "STAY WITH ME, SOUL FRIEND!"  
  
"S—Stop shaking me!”  
  
"I HAVE NO MAKE SURE YOU'RE STILL THERE! DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE WITH FUYUHIKO!"  
  
"I'm still here!" Hajime exclaimed. "I'm not Izuru! I'm me!"  
  
"Are you sure? You're not running a fever, are you? Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?"  
  
"I said I'm fine!" Hajime snapped.  
  
Kazuichi relinquished his grip.  
  
"Kazuichi...you're getting paranoid," Hajime stated.  
  
"What'dya expect?!" Kazuichi exclaimed. "Izuru's trying to muscle in on my territory!"  
  
"What're you talking about?"  
  
"I mean—there's only room for one Ultimate Mechanic around here! And that's me!"  
  
Kazuichi grabbed the back of Hajime's shirt and dragged him out of the garage.  
  
"Sorry, Hajime, but this is for your own good," said Kazuichi. "From now on, you're forbidden from touching my truck!"  
  
"What for?!" Hajime cried out.  
  
"Because you can't be tempted to use your—your magical talents! Also...this is my pet project. I don't want Izuru messing it up!"  
  
“But—talents aren’t magical…”  
  
Kazuichi was having none of it. He left Hajime standing just outside the garage and watched him carefully as he went back to working on the truck. He was beginning to feel as though he was actually going to need that support group.

* * *

Hina studied her reflection. Moment of truth. No notes could prepare her for this, no studying, and no warm-ups could get her ready. Right now, she just had to go out there and do her best.

She chanted it like a mantra in her head. Do her best. Keep it together. Whatever you do, don't think about Yuta. These kids were way more messed up than she ever was and she couldn't let them down. She couldn't let Makoto down and—most importantly—she had to prove to Byakuya that he was an arrogant jackass. She was going to do better than he ever could.

Hina composed herself and emerged from her bedroom. It led right into the living room, and she went in expecting to find it crowded with the Remnants.

But the only two there were Sonia and Hajime, sitting side-by-side on the couch. Their hushed conversation abruptly ended when she entered.

“We’re missing a few people,” Hina noted.

No sooner had she said anything when the front door opened with a crash. Kazuichi hurdled inside, looking frazzled. Fresh oil stained his jumpsuit.

“Lost track of time,” he panted. “Did I miss anything?”

“Nope,” Hina shook her head.

“...Oh.”

“...You were late on purpose, weren’t you?”  


“No!”

Kazuichi went to sit next to Sonia. The moment he did so, the princess stood up and took a seat in the armchair opposite of the couch, perched like a predatory hawk surveying her domain. Kazuichi flushed red and pulled his beanie over his head.

They waited a few more moments until they heard a scuffle on the floor above. Shouting. Then, feet stamping down the stairs. Fuyuhiko stumbled into the living room, followed by Akane. Judging by the way his tie was askew, it was clear he hadn't come without putting up some degree of a fight. He took the seat on the ottoman situated furthest from the group, arms and legs folded in defiance. Akane deposited herself on the love seat and stretched her legs out.

Hina opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the swift sound of a match being struck. She snapped her head around. Fuyuhiko glared at her defiantly as he lit a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“I said no smoking in the house!” Hina exclaimed.

Fuyuhiko extinguished the match and blew smoke at her. Hina crumpled up her face in an attempt not to cough.

“Fine, I won’t stop you,” Hina decided. “But if you must smoke, don’t blow it in my face!”

Fuyuhiko shrugged. She turned to her audience.

"Well, everyone's here, so let's get started!" Hina declared. "First order of business—I think we need a team name."

"Oh, that's a wonderful idea!" Sonia beamed. "We can all wear matching shirts!"

"Yeah, and we'll have a mascot and a cheer, too," Kazuichi drawled sarcastically.

"That sounds like fun!"

"It...It does? I mean—of course it does! A team name is a great idea!"

"Why the hell would we want a team name?!" Fuyuhiko raged.

"To motivate us to work together, that's why," Hina elaborated. "That's why we're all here, after all. We're all here to work together towards the future. Right, Hajime?"

"Oh, um...yeah," Hajime nodded, his voice wavering. "But...I'm not so sure if a team name is absolutely necessary."

"Alright, it's settled! We'll come up with a team name!"

"You didn't even listen to me..."

"Does anyone have any suggestions?”

"Oh, oh!" Akane's hand shot up in the air. "Something relating to food!"

"No, no, it has to be something that motivates us," Hina smiled.

"Food is motivating!"

"Not for all of us," Kazuichi muttered.

"Um...how about we all take the time to come up with names after the meeting?" Sonia suggested. "Then we can reconvene to compare notes."

Hina thought about it. "That's a good idea, Sonia. Alright, that'll be our first assignment!"

"Assignment?" Hajime repeated.

"Oh, it's something Kyoko suggested we do. She suggested that I give our assignments during support groups to keep everyone focused on something. It's a good idea, don'cha think?"

Kazuichi groaned from under his hat. "I hate homework!"

"C'mon, it'll be fun," said Hina. "It's not like school where you have to write essays or something. It's, like, fun stuff."

"If someone's telling me to do it, it's homework."

"Um, we don't actually have to write essays, right?" Akane asked. "I suck at those."

"Don't worry about it. It's not like I'm grading you anything."

Akane looked a little bit assured. Hina scanned her audience. They ranged from interested (Sonia) to defiant (Fuyuhiko). Kazuichi was still hiding under his hat.

"So, I know this is probably weird for you guys," Hina continued, words tumbling out of her mouth. "I mean—sitting around with a perfect stranger and talking about the Neo World Program. But just because it was a simulation run by computers, that doesn't make any of the things that happened there—y'know, less real. I mean, I went through a killing game, too, so I know what it's like."

She looked around, hoping someone would jump in.

Sonia cleared her throat. "Did you know us back at Hope's Peak?"

Of course it was going to come to that. "Sort of, but only through Junko—back before I didn't know she was kind of nuts."

"You were friends with her?"

"I thought I was, up until she orchestrated the killing game. To be honest, I always got along with Mukuro better."

"Mukuro? Wasn't she Junko's twin?"

"Yeah, but they were very different. I didn't realize how different until my friends and I got our memories back."

"Hey, didn't the Future Foundation restore your memories of Hope's Peak?" Kazuichi asked, pulling the beanie from his face. "Junko—she erased, what? Two years worth of your memories? And the Foundation restored them?"

"That's right," Hina confirmed.

"Can you use the same technology to do the same to us?"

"It was thrown out there, but Makoto was afraid it might be too traumatic. That's why we want you guys to remember at your own pace."

"I suppose that is reasonable," Sonia agreed tentatively. "Hina...what were we like at Hope's Peak?"

"I dunno. Normal, I guess. You guys were the year above me, so we didn't spend a whole lot of time together."

Hina frowned and thought about Hope's Peak, thought about the ruin that had once represented the hope of mankind.

"I'm not so sure that using Hope's Peak as a shelter was a good idea in retrospect," said Hina. "I mean, I agreed to it at the time because it seemed safe. My family was missing, the world was in chaos, and I had nowhere to go. But...a lot happened while we were shut off. Maybe we could've prevented the spread of despair if we'd confronted it instead of hiding away. Plus, being in that shelter only gave Junko the perfect opportunity to...y'know...kill most of my class."

"Junko didn't kill them."

Heads turned. Fuyuhiko mouth was curled into a snarl.

"Junko didn't kill your classmates," he said firmly. "They killed each other, just like Teruteru chose to kill the Imposter when given the opportunity. Just like Peko chose to kill Mahiru. And just like Mikan killed Ibuki and Hiyoko, and Gundham chose to kill Nekomaru. Maybe your classmates were forced into a situation where it seemed like murder was the only option, but they made a conscious decision to kill. The only thing Junko is guilty of in regards to the killing games is setting up the circumstances and giving us the incentive to commit murder. Murder isn't something you do by accident. You have to chose to take another life, and that's what our classmates did."

"But Junko orchestrated it!" Hina argued.

"Didn't you hear a fucking thing I said?! Maybe she dropped you into a place where murder was plausible, but they chose to fight. Kill or be killed. It's no different than the yakuza.”

Fuyuhiko scanned their faces, daring for a challenger.

"And _that_ ," he continued. "is why this is a huge fucking waste of time."

"What do you mean, Fuyuhiko?" Sonia asked.

"It's obvious, isn't it? Our friends made their choice. We decided not to kill, and that's how we survived to the end."

She glared. "Gundham killed to save us all!"

“Nekomaru tried to do the same thing,” Akane added.

"And Peko died trying to save me. That doesn't make her any less of a murderer."

"By your logic, that means we're accountable for everything we did as Ultimate Despair," Hajime said quietly.

"Of course we're fucking accountable!" Fuyuhiko snapped. "Blaming everyone on that bitch would be too convenient. The Future Foundation wants us dead because we're criminals—not because we followed Junko around. Because we're more dangerous without Junko than we were with her."

"Please don't speak as though we are still Ultimate Despair!" Sonia pleaded.

"Everything you're saying's all screwy, Fuyuhiko," said Akane. "It's Junko's fault we're in this mess to begin with!"

"Are you fucking stupid?" Fuyuhiko asked. "We went along with her plans and she as sure as hell didn't make us become Ultimate Despair. I can't speak for all of us, but I wouldn't have followed Junko unless she proved to me that she was as strong—if not stronger—than a Kuzuryu. She wouldn't have been able to force me to do or become anything. I made the conscious decision to follow her and Peko came along for the ride."

His voice quivered, almost undetectable if Hina hadn't been searching for the break in his voice. There was a realization there. A realization that when he joined Junko, Peko Pekoyama would've automatically followed. That it was his fault that Peko had become Ultimate Despair.

"No matter what happened afterwards, no matter what Junko manipulated me into doing, it was of my own volition that I followed her in the first place," Fuyuhiko stated. "I can't remember the reasons yet, but I made a decision to spread despair. I'm accountable for that. So don't you fucking _dare_ try to weasel your way out of responsibility by saying that 'Junko made me do it.'"

No words could do justice to the weight of the silence. Again, Fuyuhiko sought out their expressions, fishing for a response. When none came, he leaned back.

"I've said what I wanted to say," Fuyuhiko murmured. Conversation over.

"Junko must be laughing at us, wherever she is," Sonia whispered, suddenly distant and not-there.  "This is what she wanted. For us to shoulder the burden of responsibility for what we have done and feel despair because of it."

"You ended the simulation because you wanted to work towards a new future, remember?" Hina stepped in. "Don't let what Junko would've wanted you to do to destroy that."

Sonia blinked. "Yes...Yes, you are right. I apologize, I do not know what came over me."

"Junko failed," Hajime added. Once again, he proved the totality of his opinion when the others looked at him with admiration and trust. "We've made wrong decisions—that can't be denied. But not even Junko could've predicted that we'd choose differently."

Murmurs of consent all around. He really did have unwavering power over the others.

"Hey, do you think that Mikan would've turned out the way she did if she'd never met Junko?" Kazuichi asked. "I mean—I mean, Fuyuhiko, what you're saying is that Mikan was nuts, but clearly that was her own fault."

Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes. "Mikan was a doormat."

"That's not a thing to call a girl..."

"She wanted to be trampled underfoot and that's exactly what happened to her. Junko may have taken advantage of that, but Mikan responded."

"Don't you remember what Mikan said before she died? She said that everyone was responsible for her turning out the way she did."

"Oh, are you going to rely on the word of a nutcase? Typical. No wonder you were Ultimate Despair."

"Analyzing this to death isn't going to help," Hina interrupted. "You'll just end up talking in circles."

Kazuichi glared at Fuyuhiko. "Got anything else you want to add or are you actually going to do what you said you here going to do and be quiet?"

Fuyuhiko huffed. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"Please do not pick fights," Sonia urged.

"He started it!" Kazuichi exclaimed.

"That's enough, Kazuichi."

He could never argue against Sonia. Kazuichi drew his legs onto the couch and folded his arms, mimicking Fuyuhiko.

"I...am amazed by Junko's capacity to manipulate others," said Sonia. "It is hard to believe that she so easily ensnared all of us."

"I wouldn't say it was easy," Hina cut in. "Junko was a patient person. She was planning her killing games long before Hope's Peak was even converted to a shelter and she probably knew she was going to involve my class long before the Tragedy."

"Hey, speaking of which—why _didn't_ Junko try to get your class to join Ultimate Despair?" Akane asked. "I mean, it prolly would've been easier to get you guys to join, right? But instead she went for us upperclassmen."

"Kyoko thinks that Junko thought about it, but decided she wanted to use us in a different way. After all...we thought we were her friends...and because of that she thought we were more 'important.' Ultimate Despair was a means to an end, but I'm guessing she didn't value your lives the way she would value her friends.  That's why she meticulously planned our deaths, so she could experience the despair of killing her friends. But she didn't value you guys at all. You were just tools to her."

"The world's better off with that crazy bitch dead," Kazuichi murmured. "...Unless she made more than one AI..."

"Please don't say that," Hajime groaned.

"At least an AI would be easier to beat to death out here than in that game world," Akane shrugged.

Kazuichi's lips drew into a thin line. "How do you think she turned us into Ultimate Despair? I mean, some of us I can picture it, like Mikan—but all of us?"

"Do you think so poorly of Mikan?" Sonia asked.

"N—No!" Kazuichi back-pedalled. "What I meant was—I mean, let's be honest. Can you really picture Mahiru as Ultimate Despair? Or—or you, Miss Sonia? I can definitely can't see you as Ultimate Despair! So what I mean to say is—is are you sure there isn't...y'know...some kind of mix-up?”

"I thought we were past the denial stage," said Hajime.

"You can't blame me! We don't have any memories of anything beyond us arriving at Hope's Peak! So there could be a mix-up!"

"What, do you think Sonia's leg popped off and hopped away on its own?" Akane asked. "Aw, man, now I'm stuck with that mental image. Thanks a lot, Kazuichi!"

"Hate to disappoint, Kazuichi, but there can't be any doubt that you guys are Ultimate Despair," said Hina.

"Well—I'm not exactly denying that—"

"But...that's exactly what you're doing..."

"—I mean, we all know that Nagito was crazy and I'm just—are we so sure that _all_ of us were Ultimate Despair?"

"You're saying that you don't think you, personally, was part of Ultimate Despair. Is that it?”

"I dunno! I mean, I find it hard to believe that Miss Sonia would do all that shit Ultimate Despair did."

"Ugh, of course this has to do with Sonia," Fuyuhiko grumbled from his corner.

"It's not just that!" Kazuichi defended himself. "It's—It's—I mean, with some of us it seems more likely that they were Ultimate Despair. It isn't that far a stretch to picture Hiyoko or Gundham running around with Junko."

"Are you seriously doing this?" Hajime asked.

"C'mon! Gundham thought he was the Supreme Overlord of Ice! Nut jobs like him and Junko deserved each other! I don't think there can be...uh...hey, Miss Sonia? What're you doing?"

Sonia suddenly rose to her feet at attention, trembling all over. In two long strides, she crossed the living room.

Kazuichi gawked up at her. "Uh, Miss Son—"

SLAP.

The spot where Sonia had struck Kazuichi's cheek turned bright red, the imprints of her fingers visible against his pasty complexion. Sonia loomed over him. Standing like a soldier. Placid blue eyes bristling and resolute.

"How dare you," she hissed. "How _dare_ you speak ill of our friends!”

The silence was deafening. Kazuichi's mouth formed words, but nothing came out. Even Fuyuhiko sat upright, watching with interest.

He managed to stammer, "B—But—"

"But _nothing!"_ Sonia yelled. "You're so determined to shift blame that you're willing to deface the names of your friends! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

Kazuichi shrunk into the couch cushions, one hand clutching Hajime's arm in a death grip. Hajime couldn't help him, though.

"Gundham saved all of us—including you! And now you disrespect him by suggesting that he and Junko _deserved each other_?!"

"T—that's not what I meant!" Kazuichi squeaked.

"Furthermore, you _dare_ suggest that I was not capable of being Ultimate Despair!"

"But you—"

"I am a human being, Kazuichi Soda! I am as guilty as the rest of you! Perhaps more so—considering my status! I, for one, cannot tolerate your attempts to further isolate me from the others!"

_ "WHAT?!" _

"I have had nothing but patience and tolerance for the way you've treated me, but enough is enough! I am not an object to be won or a prize to be flaunted in front of others! I have never, nor will I ever be, romantically involved with you no matter how much you fantasize about it! And I shudder to think of how often you must fantasize about me!"

Kazuichi looked like a puppy who'd been kicked when he was down. Yet, his shivering eyes didn't waver from Sonia.

"In case I have not already made myself clear through action alone," Sonia continued. She pointed at him, her finger inches from his face. "You will have greater respect for our comatose friends! You will cease your persistent efforts to 'woo' me at once! If you are so inclined to speak to me, you will speak to me as though I am a human! If you fail to comply with these terms, I will kick—your—BUTT!"

Sonia stood at attention, hair flowing, hands on her hips, and Hina suppressed the rising urge to fall down on one knee and bow to the Princess of Novoselic. Kazuichi floundered like a fish out of water.

After an agonizing moment, Sonia softly cleared her throat and turned to Hina. "I apologize for my outburst. I do not intend to disrupt the conversation, but I am...feeling rather tired. I think I will go to bed."

Nobody argued that it was far too early to go to bed as she excused herself and left the room.

There was a moment in which no one was capable of speaking, like they were terrified Sonia would swoop back in and launch into a tangent if they tried. Fuyuhiko's cigarette had burnt itself to a stub, but he made no effort to remove it. Kazuichi was frozen, staring into nothingness. The first sign of movement came from Hajime prying Kazuichi's fingers from his arm.

After Hajime managed to free his arm, Kazuichi stood up so quickly that Hina thought she heard his spine snap. He rounded the couch and made a beeline for the front door.

"Kazuichi?" Hajime called.

There was a great crash as Kazuichi slammed open the front door. Hajime scrambled over the back of the couch and hurried after him.

"Kazuichi?!" Hajime shouted.

And just like that, Hajime was gone, as well.

"It's about fucking time she knocked some sense into him," Fuyuhiko scoffed. He stood up. "Well, this was fun. I'm going now."

“Wait—you can’t leave!” Hina exclaimed. “We haven’t wrapped up the meeting yet!”

“Meeting adjourned.”

“It can’t end just because you say it is! Hey, get back here!”

Only Akane was left, and she was busy sticking a finger in her ear.

"Y'know, there's only one of two good ways to deal with stuff," she said. "One is food and the other is violence!"

Akane beamed at her, apparently proud that she'd come to that conclusion. It took every ounce of Hina's strength not to facepalm.

* * *

Hina was only able to hold off for fifteen minutes before intervening. She entertained the thought of leaving Kazuichi and Sonia alone for the night—give them time to cool off, and think, and perhaps work it out among themselves. But when Hajime returned with a sullen face, she knew that she couldn't stand by. This required the attention of the appointed den mother—and she held the dubious honour of that title.

She braced herself in her room, giving herself a good lecture in the mirror and promising a reward of doughnuts. Then, taking a deep breath, she ascended to the second floor and found herself standing just outside the girls' bedroom. Hina found Akane at the door, combing her fingers through her long hair.

"C'mon, Sonia!" Akane called. "I can totally beat Kazuichi up for ya, no problem!"

"I do not wish him to be 'beat up!'" Sonia's muffled voice rang out from the other side.

"Well...it probably won't take much to get 'im to crack! I can just push him down the stairs or something!"

"Akane, you will not lay your hands on him!"

Akane groaned. "This sucks! Oh, hey, Hina."

"You weren't seriously going to beat Kazuichi up, were you?" Hina asked.

"Only a little bit."

Hina folded her arms and jutted out her lower lip.

"Aw, don't look at me like that," said Akane. "Okay, I won't beat 'im up! I'll just...go stare at him or something."

Akane looked at the bedroom door. Then Hina. Then back again.

"You prolly want to talk to Sonia, huh?" Akane asked. "Go right ahead. I'm gonna get something to eat."

Hina waited until Akane had gone down the stairs to knock on the bedroom door. Really, her knock was barely a tap.

"Sonia? I know you're there." Hina leaned against the door. "Can we talk?"

A pause, and then, "You may come in."

When Hina entered, she was struck with the scent of perfume. In the short time that Sonia and Akane had occupied the room, it had undergone a radical transformation. Akane's side of the room was a disgraceful mess of loose clothing, discarded plates of food, and general mayhem. Sonia's was in stark contrast to it. She had the only queen-sized bed in the house, covered in floral sheets and perfectly arranged cushions. Truly a bed fit for a princess.

Sonia paced the room, chewing on her thumbnail.

"I was too harsh with him," Sonia wavered. "I should not have struck him!"

"Calm down, Sonia," Hina urged.

"I don't know where it came from! He has been aggravating since the day I met him, but to use violence is—is detestable! I am truly ashamed of my behaviour!"

"Sonia, if he's been annoying you, then you had a right to tell him off."

"I don't think he even realizes that he is bothersome!" Sonia reasoned. She seemed to be talking more to herself than to Hina. "He's just been so persistent and when he started blaming the others, and—and—and started on that tirade, I lost my composure!"

"Sonia—"

"I should give him a formal apology. I think he likes soft drinks, too. I will send some over!"

"SONIA!"

The princess whipped around, her golden locks of hair swinging. The Sonia standing before her was much different than the Sonia Hina had known at school. The Ultimate Princess had been composed and elegant. But Sonia Nevermind was distressed, her watery blue eyes searching for reassurance.

Hina guided Sonia to sit on the bed and sat with her.

"You have nothing to apologize for," said Hina. "If Kazuichi has been pursuing you and hasn't been able to take a hint, then you had a right to say no."

"You do not understand," Sonia shook his head. "Kazuichi is...fragile."

"You are not responsible for his emotions."

"But I am! I do not dislike him, you must understand. He is just...a bit of a nuisance sometimes."

She recoiled at once.

"I did it again! I spoke too harshly of him! This is not proper behaviour!"

"Look, Sonia, I know you're used to thinking like that, but Kazuichi isn't a citizen of your country. He's a classmate, and a boy on top of that, so you don't have to go around thinking you're responsible for his feelings. That doesn't mean you can't care for him in a completely platonic way. He's just going to have to accept how you feel about it."

"I do not want him to get hurt…"

"Sometimes caring for someone means hurting them."

A memory of Sakura's corpse probed its way through her mind.

"My friend, Sakura," Hina said quietly. "She died during the killing games. She...she committed suicide to try to stop us from killing each other."

"That's terrible!" Sonia gasped. "Why would she think that killing herself was the only way to prevent more deaths?"

"It's a bit of a long story. But...the way I see it...she believed that the best way to help us was to hurt us. She really believed that."

Hina shook herself out of her daze. _Stay in the present, Asahina._

"So what I'm saying is that you can't avoid hurting his feelings," said Hina. "It's something you're going to have to accept."

Sonia was unfocused as she traced the outline of a flower on the bedspread. "I suppose you are right..."

"I'm always right! On most days."

Sonia smiled, though the smile was short-lived. "Still...I feel I will need to speak to him when I am calmer."

"Why don't you let me handle Kazuichi?" Hina offered. "To, y'know, explain stuff to him."

"I would appreciate that. You will be gentle with him, won't you?"

"As gentle as I can be." Though, perhaps, not as gentle as Sonia would be if their roles were reversed.

When she left the room, Sonia was in a much better room, a small smile playing at her lips and shining brightly enough to dispel the night. Hina only released the breath she'd been holding when she was outside.

One down. One to go.

She passed Akane in the kitchen and gave her a thumbs up, which she returned before scarfing down her fifth meal of the day.

They were gonna need more food. Hina went back to the front room. She found Hajime back on the couch, leaning forwards as if in silent prayer.

"Where's Kazuichi?" Hina asked.

"Garage," Hajime answered.

She paused at the front door. "You okay?"

"Sure. I just feel like I might be...never mind. It's not important. You better go talk to Kazuichi."

Hina hesitated—but talked herself into leaving. Hajime could come later.

Setting off into the night, she wrapped her sweatshirt tightly around her body. It was much colder than she thought it should be for a tropical island. The overhead breeze was tart with a chill unbecoming of her surroundings. She scanned the stars and made a beeline for the garage.

At first glance, it seemed empty. Tools scattered on the floor, the hood of the truck propped up, and the stale scent of sweat in the air. What did Kazuichi find so appealing about this place?

“Kazuichi?” she chimed. “You in here?”

No response.

Still, she had a feeling. Hina remembered when she'd first seen him in the garage. She followed up on her instincts, got on all fours, and looked underneath the truck. Lying flat on his back with his hands behind his head, Kazuichi was staring up at the underside of the truck, his hair splayed out around his head.

"What're you doing there?" Hina asked.

"Cos I like it here," Kazuichi replied.

Made sense. "Can I join you?"

"If you have to."

Kazuichi rolled onto his side so his back faced her. Hina crawled underneath with him, though her legs stuck out in the open. It smelt like motor oil.

"Hiding under here isn't gonna help," Hina pointed out.

He didn’t reply.

Oh, boy. This was going to be much more difficult than Sonia. "Wow. When Makoto told me you were a bit dramatic, I thought he was exaggerating."

“I’m not dramatic!” Kazuichi exclaimed dramatically. The jab at his pride had the intended effect, and he rolled over to face her.

"Then what do you call this?” Hina demanded, indicating their surroundings. “Look, I know you Sonia, but you can’t keep hounding her like you’ve been doing.”

“Hey, I don’t need your advice about Miss Sonia!”

"If you keep doing what you've been doing, how do you think that's gonna turn out?"

He chewed his lip with his pointed teeth, eyes shifting in and out of focus as he digested her words.

“From what I understand, you’ve been way too aggressive, even when she’s made it clear she’s not interested,” Hina persisted, determined to speak before he could protest. “I know you probably don’t know any better, but when a girl says no—she means no. It means put the breaks on and back the heck off. No means _no_.”

His eyes were childlike. Was he going to cry? She was not ready to handle crying.

“But...but if I just try harder, she’ll have to like me!” Kazuichi exclaimed. His voice was several octaves higher than it normally was. And it was annoying.

"Where the hell did you learn that from?" Hina sighed, passing her brow. "Sonia's under no obligation to like you no matter how hard you try, Kaz. Lucky for you, she doesn't totally hate your guts."

“W—what? How do you know?”

“Because she told me. Sonia doesn’t hate you, she just doesn’t want to be your girlfriend. Ever.”

Kazuichi blinked drearily at her and there was a long pause, during which she was certain he was going to burst into tears.

“So that’s it, huh?” he said quietly. “I fucked it up. Nicely done, Kazuichi Soda. You finally meet the girl of your dreams and what do you do? You fuck it up big time.”

“Calm down, Kazuichi. It’s not the end of the world.”

“No wonder she slapped me! I’d slap me, too!”

“Kazuichi, it’s not healthy to put this much emphasis on a relationship that’s not going to happen! It’s not like she doesn’t want anything to do with you. In fact, she was upset that she slapped you.”

“You don’t understand. She’s the girl of my dreams!”

“Why? Because she’s a princess?”

“It’s not just that! She’s not just a princess! She’s really, really smart! And—and she’s charming! Everybody likes her! It’s impossible not to like her! And—and, fuck, I think about her all the time!"

“If you really love her, don’t you think you should respect how she feels?”

For an extended second, his eyes were transfixed and unblinking. Then, they lit up—like someone had flipped a switch in his brain.

“Just because she doesn’t return your feelings, doesn’t mean you can’t care for her,” Hina assured him. “You just kinda have to...um...redefine your relationship. What’s so terrible about trying to be friends with her?”

He sniffed. “But...but it’s not the same...”

"I guess it isn't," said Hina. "People fall in and out of love all the time, and sometimes you fall in love with someone who can't return your feelings. Believe me...I know about that. It's okay to be upset, Kaz. That said, being persistent and annoying isn't going to change Sonia's feelings for her. It's just going to make her resent you in the long run."

Thick lines were etched across his face and he seemed much older. In the space of a few seconds, Kazuichi had aged from boyish to almost-like-a-man. His eyes glistened, though there were no tears, and he rolled onto his stomach, folding his arms underneath his chin. Contemplation clouded his features.

"Do you understand?" Hina asked softly.

"Yeah, I guess," he murmured.

He closed his eyes.

"...Junko."

Hina frowned. "What did you say?"

"Junko," Kazuichi raised his gaze and looked her. His eyes were empty now. "She said that unrequited love is a special kind of despair."

Hina's heart clenched. Her fingers dug into the rough concrete.

"One time, I asked Sonia to tell me she loved me," Kazuichi continued as if in a trance. "Heh, after that she'd keep telling me...just so I could feel a bit of despair because I knew she didn't mean it."

Kazuichi sighed.

"It's stupid, but I kinda wish she would say it one more time."

He buried his face in his arms and didn’t say anymore. Hina lay with him under the car, her hand on his shoulder, and her blood running cold. She hoped that Kazuichi couldn’t tell that her heart was racing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whOOPS my hand slipped.
> 
> A bit of a difficult chapter to do, I wanted to handle Kazuichi and Sonia's relationship like a mature person. Not that I know anything about that, I only pretend to be mature. I always thought his infatuation with Sonia was irritating rather than endearing and a sign of just plain lazy writing...so...I fixed it! Ah, the joys of fanfiction...I can destroy canon and hide behind the shield of "It's FANFICTION!"
> 
> Flashbacks to Despair days are going to be kind of a thing with this fic, which is why I'm so preoccupied with the upcoming anime and hoping it doesn't destroy what I've written so far too much. Starting in the next chapter the flashbacks will probably get a bit longer and go more in-depth with...things.
> 
> It's late and my brain isn't working.
> 
> Minor edits done on: 16/7/2016 and 13/10/2016


	3. Solitaire

**PAST **

 Blood.  
  
Kazuichi tugged at a strand of his hair. The shade had changed from pink to a sickening shade of dark red has blood seeped through it. It trickled down his cheek and around his ear, causing his skin to crawl and his senses to burn with heightened awareness. Still, there was no time to waste, not with Hope's Peak Academy shrouded in darkness.  
  
He couldn’t be sure what time it was and he wasn’t even sure why he’d bothered to come back. This was pretty much the last place he wanted to be in his condition, but home wasn't an option, and there wasn't really anywhere else he felt safe. Hope's Peak was the one option that didn't end with more blood, so here he was. The academy looked so strange at night. Small lights from the windows contrasted against the darkness and the buildings loomed like a grisly surreal painting. Kazuichi pulled his hood over his face and hurried up the steps leading to the dormitories, praying to God that he wouldn't be barraged with questions.  
  
“Okay,” Kazuichi breathed, hand pressed against the front door. “Just go straight to your room. Straight there. No detours.”  
  
Kazuichi slipped inside. The dormitories for the Ultimates had certainly overwhelmed him when he'd arrived last year. The entrance hall, alone, was large enough to accommodate his entire house. More than once he'd gotten lost. But by now, he knew the way to his room by heart and he kept his gaze fixed on the marble-tiled floor as he headed up the main stairs to the second level. He walked faster than he ever had before, as fast as he could without making noise, and buried himself so deep in his sweatshirt that he thought he might merge with it on a molecular level.  
  
At least if that happened it would hide the blood.  
  
Kazuichi hadn't even set foot on the stairs leading to the third floor when he heard the familiar sound of boots pounding against tile. The empty halls only amplified the footsteps, making it difficult to tell where it was coming from.  
  
“Oh, shit!” Kazuichi hissed. Of all the times for him to show up...  
  
Kazuichi fumbled, his feet uncertain of where to go and what to do. No time to head up the stairs—he'd be seen for sure.  
  
With no better idea, Kazuichi doubled back and raced down the hall. The rooms leading to the other dormitories sped past him in a blur, though he was barely aware of it in his panic to escape. If he hurried he might—  
  
“CURFEW VIOLATION! _CURFEW VIOLATION!”_  
  
Kazuichi screeched to a halt, his sneakers squeaking against the floor, and peered over his shoulder. The owner of the footsteps had rounded the corner. Pointing at him accusingly, scarlet eyes flaring, was Kiyotaka Ishimaru.  
  
Kazuichi did what he always did when he ran afoul of Taka: he screamed and made a run for it.  
  
He screeched in a single, piercing note as he bolted for the back stairwell. Maybe he'd be able to make his escape there. Of course, he should've known better than to try to outrun the Ultimate Moral Compass. No sooner had he taken off when he heard Taka right on his heels.  
  
“STOP RIGHT THERE, CRIMINAL SCUM!” Taka shouted.  
  
Taka chased him through the labyrinth of halls, but only managed to catch up to him at the stairwell. With a dramatic leap, Taka tackled him to the ground and they landed in a mess of tangled limbs.  
  
"No running in the halls!" Taka screamed into his ear.  
  
Grabbing the back of his sweatshirt, Taka hauled him upright and pulled off the hood.  
  
"Kazuichi Soda!" Taka exclaimed. "I should've known it was you! That makes..." He counted on his fingers until he was out of fingers to count on. "...Several times this month that you've violated school policy! What do you have to say for yourself, you juvenile delinquent?!"  
  
"Did you have to tackle me?" Kazuichi groaned. He was sore enough as it was.  
  
"You ran from the law," said Taka. "You should seriously reconsider the direction your life is taking, Kazuichi. Today, it's running in the halls. Tomorrow, it's sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll!"  
  
"Ugh, you're making my head hurt..."  
  
"I'm issuing you a detention for this!"  
  
"Aw, c'mon! You ran, too!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"When you were trying to catch me. You ran!"  
  
Taka gasped and nearly dropped his trusty pink notebook. "You're right! You...You made me violate a school rule! You fiend! Now I have to give myself a detention!"  
  
"Can't you give me a break, Taka?" Kazuichi pleaded. "I've had a long night!"  
  
"So have I!" Taka barked. "I have been chasing down ruffians who have no respect for school rules! You aren't an exception just because your hair is that colour."  
  
"What does my hair have to do with anything?”  
  
"The law is the law," said Taka. "Plus, I suspect you've violated more than one school rule today, as per tradition."  
  
"What are you talking about? You're not omnipotent!...I think...You can't prove anything!"  
  
"Rubbish! It's perfectly clear just by looking at you that you've been fighting! Violence is not welcome in a school environment. However, I will consider being lenient if you tell me who else was involved."  
  
Shit. Did he really look that bad? "I wasn't fighting anyone! I...I fell off my bike."  
  
"Were you wearing a helmet?"  
  
"What?! No! Helmets are for dorks!"  
  
Taka wagged his pen at him. "At least 'dorks' live longer. I'm citing you for not wearing a helmet."  
  
"You can't do that!"  
  
"You admitted to an infraction; you're leaving me no choice."  
  
"C'mon, I already have a shit-ton of detentions I have to do!"  
  
"No swearing! I'm going to give you a citation for that, as well."  
  
"TAKA!"  
  
 _"Kazuichi."_  
  
"You gotta give me a break! I've had a shitty night!"  
  
Taka opened his mouth to scold him, but his impending speech was interrupted by another voice echoing down the hall.  
  
"Hey, Taka!" the voice called. "Who're you torturing this time?"  
  
Taka's entire body went rigid. He swung around. "MONDO, YOU MISCREANT! I TOLD YOU—NO MORE LATE NIGHT EXCURSIONS!”  
  
Behind Taka and down the hall, Kazuichi caught sight of the billowing cloak and ridiculous pompadour of Mondo Owada. A guy no one liked to mess with, but his tone was light and teasing. Taka's entire disposition switched from controlled to flustered and outraged.  
  
"Yeah?" Mondo called. "And what're you gonna do about it?!"  
  
And just like that, Mondo laughed, gave a mock salute, and disappeared around the corner.  
  
"That...That felon!" Taka hissed. "I'll let you off with a verbal warning, Kazuichi! I have an even more notorious criminal to catch!"  
  
Kazuichi just about collapsed out of relief as Taka took off, yelling after Mondo.  
  
He tried not to linger too long, just enough for Taka and Mondo's voices to fade away and the halls to become silent again. Kazuichi hurried up to the third floor, not wanting to test his luck or Taka's proficiency for enforcing rules.  
  
The third floor was reserved for the other students in his year, but that didn't make it any less of an exception to Taka's patrols. To his relief, the halls were quiet; the exchange between Taka and Mondo hadn't disturbed any of the students. Or they were just too afraid of getting another detention to risk investigating.  
  
Kazuichi's first stop was the boys' washroom, where he knew he could find a first aid kit and a reliable mirror. The dormitories didn't have any and he didn't want to risk a trek to the nurse's office in the other building. The last thing he wanted was Mikan Tsumiki prodding his face and asking uncomfortable questions. Although he was sure he could deflect them, he was more concerned about Mikan telling someone about his condition. As sweet and innocent as she was, she wasn't known for her ability to keep secrets. So that left self-medication. Not the first time he'd patched himself up in a washroom, anyways. He liked to think he was almost as capable as the Ultimate Nurse.  
  
Kazuichi checked to make sure the washroom was empty. Once satisfied, he slipped inside and retrieved the first aid kit. He would just need to clean the cuts and then everything would be—  
  
Well, fuck.  
  
Kazuichi stared at his reflection in the mirror. The damage was much worse than he thought it was. Half his face was swollen and purple, his black eye was pinched and bloodshot, and long lines of blood trailed down his face.  
  
Kazuichi bared his teeth. At least they were all there.  
  
Propping the first aid kit on the sink, he hesitated. He had no idea where to begin. His doppelgänger looked bruised, in the sense that his spirit and what was left of his pride had been beaten beyond recognition, that he'd really hit the bottom of the proverbial toilet of life.  
  
 _So,_ he thought. _This is what you are. This is what's become of you. You stupid asshole._  
  
Before he could calculate a way to treat his bruises, the washroom door opened with a slam. Kazuichi followed his instincts and rocketed back into one of the toilet stalls. Fortunately, the person who entered shouted so loudly that it covered up the sound of the first aid kit crashing to the floor.  
  
"Fuck! Fuck! _Fuck!_ I can't get another fucking detention!"  
  
Kazuichi only knew one person who used that many 'fucks' in just a few seconds.  Of all the students in the school—why the fuck did it have to be Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu? They were classmates and...sort of friends? To be honest it was a bit of a grey area since Fuyuhiko didn't really get along with anyone.  
  
It was to Kazuichi's great surprise, then, that when he peered around the corner, Fuyuhiko was not alone. Gundham Tanaka was with him. An odd couple if he ever saw one. He was not, however, surprised to see Peko Pekoyama accompanying the pair, unfazed that she was standing in the boys' washroom. All the same, all three looked a little more ruffled than he was used to.  
  
"I can't believe you talked me into that!" Fuyuhiko yelled. "I can't believe I agreed to that!"  
  
"Lower your voice, else the sentry find us!" Gundham snapped.  
  
"Shall I kill Gundham for wasting your time?" Peko asked.  
  
"Ha, you may try, mortal!" Gundham exclaimed, coat billowing. "But I should warn you that no mortal has ever successfully challenged the Four Dark Devas of Destruction!"  
  
"No—Peko!" Fuyuhiko groaned. "When we're annoyed with somebody, the automatic response isn't 'kill them.'"  
  
"Why not?" Peko asked.  
  
"For the love of—do I really have to go over this again?!" Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes. "Is Taka still out there?"  
  
Peko cracked open the door. "He is."  
  
"Shit. We'll have to stay put until he leaves. If he gives me one more detention, I swear I'll actually put out a hit on...Huh? Hey, Kazuichi? Is that you?”  
  
Kazuichi's heart seized and he ducked out of sight.  
  
"For God's sake—I saw you, dumbass!"  
  
Deep breath. He could talk his way out of this. Kazuichi swung into the open and tried to look as casual as possible, even with the shock evident on his classmates' faces.  
  
"Oh, hey!" he forced a grin. "Bathroom's becoming a popular place, huh?"  
  
"What the fuck happened to your face?" Fuyuhiko demanded.  
  
"I've always looked like this!"  
  
"Like hell you have."  
  
Fuyuhiko and Gundham joined him at the sink as he scrambled to pick the contents of the first aid kit. Peko remained by the door, listening carefully for signs of the hall monitor.  
  
"So what the fuck happened?" Fuyuhiko asked.  
  
"I—I fell off my bike," Kazuichi explained.  
  
"Your bike did this to you?"  
  
"I got my face caught in the chain, okay? It wasn't a pretty sight!"  
  
Fuyuhiko frowned. His hands on his hips, eyebrows pinched. Having regained his composure, Kazuichi stood at the sink and lightly dabbed at his cuts with some gauze.  
  
"How about you tell me what really happened?" Fuyuhiko demanded. "And why are you here, anyways? I thought you went home for the long weekend."  
  
"Er—I did!" Kazuichi nodded vigorously. "But I decided to come back early."  
  
"Early? You're never early. You're either right on time or incredibly late."  
  
"Am not!" Kazuichi eyed the trio. "So why are you guys out?"  
  
"N—none of your business!" Fuyuhiko stammered.  
  
"We robbed a petting zoo," Peko blurted.  
  
"You did _what?"_ Kazuichi chuckled. "I wonder who's idea that was."  
  
"It was not robbery!" Gundham exclaimed. "It was the will of causality that we liberate my disciples from their forceful confinement! You should feel honoured that you were chosen to be involved in my quest!"  
  
"Some quest!" Fuyuhiko scoffed, face burning red. "We almost got arrested! AGAIN!"  
  
"I thought it was rather...fun," Peko said.  
  
"Was not! That goat was out for blood, I tell you!"  
  
"All gods thirst for blood, mortal," Gundham tsked.  
  
"Gundham, I swear to God, you are just—"  
  
“DO NOT ADDRESS ME AS THAT!”  
  
“Fine, fine! _Tanaka the Forbidden One!_ Are you happy, you fucking weirdo?”  
  
Gundham folded his arms and averted his gaze. “I am never happy.”  
  
"Whatever," said Fuyuhiko. "If Taka finds out about this, he's going to give us all detention for the rest of the school year."  
  
Kazuichi chanced a lopsided grin. "How did Gundham—"  
  
 _"THAT IS NOT MY NAME!"_  
  
"How did _Tanaka the Forbidden One_ talk you into robbing a petting zoo?"  
  
"It was my decision," Peko admitted. "When I told Fuyuhiko, he insisted that he join us."  
  
“Why'd you want to rob a petting zoo?” asked Kazuichi.  
  
Peko’s face turned the lightest shade of pink. “Because animals...are cute.”  
  
Kazuichi would’ve never guessed that Peko was an animal lover. Then again, she was just full of surprises.  
  
“Alright, we told you what we were doing,” said Fuyuhiko. “So what happened to you?”  
  
“I didn’t say I’d tell you if you told me what you were doing!” Kazuichi shrieked.  “B—besides, I already told you! I fell down some stairs!”  
  
"That's a fucking lie. You said that you fell off your bike."  
  
Goddammit all. "I...fell off my bike...while trying to ride it down some stairs."  
  
"Why the fuck would you do that?"  
  
"I dunno, it seemed like a good idea at the time..."  
  
"You are lying, Kazuichi," said Peko. "We would appreciate it if you were truthful with us.”  
  
"I'm not lying," he lied.  
  
"Why're you so defensive?" Fuyuhiko questioned. "Did you get mugged or something?"  
  
"I didn't get mugged!" Kazuichi cried, voice cracking like shattering glass. "I swear, I fell down some stairs! I swear it!"  
  
Peko's gaze focused. "Then why are you crying?"  
  
Was he crying? Kazuichi lifted his hand to his face and found his cheeks wet. He turned away and hastily scrubbed them off, ignoring the jolts of pain that fired off when he touched his bruises.  
  
There was an extended silence. In the mirror, he saw Fuyuhiko and Gundham exchange a weary glance. Kazuichi's heart lodged in his throat with anxiety—he was drawing attention again, but not the kind of attention he wanted. Certainly not the type of attention he wanted to draw in front of these three. Everyone was quiet, but they may as well have been shouting at full volume for the way the silence weighed over his senses.  
  
Peko moved. She took the first aid kit, some gauze, and disinfectant. Without asking for permission, she soaked the gauze and gently patted the cut on his head. Kazuichi flinched.  
  
"Ow, that hurts!" he complained.  
  
Peko frowned, and asked, “Who did this, Kazuichi?”  
  
He shifted uncomfortably, but her grip on his arm was too tight.  
  
“Who did this?”  
  
Breathe in. Breathe out. “...My dad.”  
  
If the silence was heavy before, it was now crushing.  
  
"I do not understand," Peko admitted. "Were you training?"  
  
"Training?" Kazuichi wailed. "Yeah, Peko! I was training! I want to become the Ultimate Punching Bag!"  
  
"That does not seem like a desirable talent."  
  
Kazuichi wasn't looking at Peko's face, but her hands hesitated.  
  
"Does he do this often?" Peko asked him.  
  
"Only when he gets drunk," Kazuichi murmured.  
  
"And how often does he do that?"  
  
"It's—It's not his fault! I know I shouldn’t get in his way when he’s drunk, and this time I just...I was just irritating him. It’s not a big deal.”  
  
"That son of a bitch,” Fuyuhiko muttered. The shock had receded, replaced by fire.  
  
“It’s not strange! It’s—ow, watch it—I mean, don't your parents try to kill each other all the time?”  
  
“Sure, but that’s yakuza for you, it’s—for the love of God, will you stop crying? It’s embarrassing!”  
  
Too late. The last of his self-control slipped through his fingers like sand. The many protests he wanted to say became caught in his throat. Tears rolled unchecked down his cheeks, dripping into the sink and pooling with the blood.  
  
“Shall I go kill Kazuichi’s father?” Peko asked.  
  
It was hard to tell whether she was serious or not. Kazuichi began a laugh that ended in a strained sob.  
  
“Don’t tempt me, Peko,” Fuyuhiko snarled. He stepped forwards, hand hovering over Kazuichi’s shoulder. “Want me to get Mikan?”  
  
“N—Not,” Kazuichi stammered. “It’s not that bad. I’m fine. I’m fine.”  
  
“This is a deep cut,” Peko remarked. “What did he hit you with?”  
  
“Um—not sure, he hit me from behind…Probably a tool or something.”  
  
“You should allow Mikan to examine your injuries. This cut may require stitches.”  
  
“I said no! Please, just leave it alone...It’ll only make it worse…”  
  
“I am being serious.”  
  
“When are you not serious?”  
  
Gundham let out an annoyed huff. “Impertinent fool.”  
  
In one, smooth motion, he pushed Peko aside and laced his fingers in Kazuichi’s hair. He flinched and made an attempt to get away. Gundham seized his shoulders and held him in place.  
  
“Cease your futile attempts to resist and allow me to examine your injury, Kazuichi Soda,” Gundham ordered.  
  
“Get your hands out of my hair!” Kazuichi demanded. “I thought you were poisonous or something!”  
  
“I am attempting to assist you.”  
  
“Since when do you know about first aid?!”  
  
“Ha! Have you forgotten? I am Tanaka the Forbidden One, and I have faced far greater dangers than your father! Fortunately, it appears as though this wound does not require stitching.”  
  
Gundham snapped his fingers and pointed at Peko.  
  
“You!” he exclaimed. “I am sending you on a quest!”  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Fuyuhiko muttered.  
  
“You must go forth to the elusive place known as…the nurse’s office,” Gundham hissed dramatically. “There, you must retrieve a substance known as tissue adhesive and return here at once. Tread wisely and do not fail me, Peko Pekoyama!”  
  
“Understood,” Peko nodded.  
  
“Wait, I’m coming with you!” Fuyuhiko decided. “I don’t want to be in the same room as Gundham—”  
  
“YOU WILL REFER TO ME BY MY PROPER NAME!”  
  
“I don’t want to be in the same room as _Tanaka the Goddamn Fucking Forbidden One!”_  
  
Peko and Fuyuhiko checked to make sure the hall was clear, and then slipped out.  
  
Alone with Gundham, Kazuichi managed to push him away. The last thing he wanted was the nutcase’s hands all over his head—it was bad enough that he had to see him like this. Kazuichi was just glad that Sonia wasn’t here, that she would, hopefully, never know that he had fallen this low.  
  
Sensing Gundham's eyes trained on the back of his head, Kazuichi swung around to face him. There was no getting around the slight height difference between them, but Kazuichi stood as tall as he could  
  
“Shut up!” Kazuichi shouted.  
  
“What are you yammering about?” Gundham demanded. “I did not even speak!”  
  
“I know what you’re thinking! So shut up!”  
  
“What—What is this? Could you be a mind reader?!”  
  
“Well...no...but I know what you’re thinking! ‘Why didn’t he fight back? Why’d he let this happen to him? If he sold his soul like I did maybe he wouldn’t be so weak!’”  
  
“You fool. I did not sell my soul. You know very well that I am the product of an unholy union between heaven and hell! I have no soul to sell!”  
  
“You are totally missing the point here!”  
  
“Then what, pray tell, is the point, Impertinent One?”  
  
“You can’t judge me! You got no right! Just because—because your life as a hell-spawn is nice and cushy and—and your stupid hamsters are your bodyguards or whatever! I have to fend for myself! And my dad is huge! I could probably fight him if I wanted to! You don’t under…What the fuck are you doing now?!”  
  
Gundham reached into his scarf, the scarf he had worn around his neck since the day Kazuichi had met him. After a few seconds of fishing around, Gundham pulled out a hamster. Not just a hamster, but the biggest, fluffiest hamster he owned.  
  
Taking his hand, he placed the hamster in Kazuichi's palm.  
  
"Pet him," Gundham ordered.  
  
"W—What?" Kazuichi stammered.  
  
"Invading Black Dragon Cham-P has the capacity to alleviate your sorrows. Such powers can be activated through physical contact."  
  
"This is bull—"  
  
 _“Pet. Him.”_  
  
Gundham didn't bother hiding his impatience. His mouth was hidden behind his scarf, but his eyes told Kazuichi all he needed to know. They were eyes both fierce and compassionate, containing a look that penetrated his soul and destroyed any protests he could muster. He had a distinct feeling that Gundham wasn’t going to let him do anything until he did what he said.  
  
Using his index finger, Kazuichi gently stroked Cham-P's head. The hamster's ear twitched. At once, the tension bled out of his shoulders, and more tears poured out before he had the presence of mind to try to stop them.  
  
“…I was not thinking any of that,” Gundham said gently.  
  
Kazuichi sniffed. “Sure you weren’t.”  
  
“I am not lying to you, Kazuichi Soda,” Gundham scoffed. “If you chose not to believe me, that is your decision.”  
  
Kazuichi hiccuped and wiped his face on his sleeve. "Why're you being so nice?"  
  
“This is not kindness. I am taking pity on you and your miserable existence."  
  
He had a feeling that it was an insult, but he couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah. Feeling pretty miserable right now. Good call.”  
  
"...Would you like me to put a curse on your father?"  
  
"I'm not sure what good that would do. I've been cursing him my whole life, and that hasn't done anything."  
  
"That is because you haven't the knowledge. I do. I can curse him."  
  
"Thanks for the offer, but there's no point. It's just...pointless."  
  
Kazuichi stared at the hamster. Gundham's hand hesitated, like he wanted to say more, but was unable to find them. Finally, the Ultimate Breeder showed him one more small mercy and didn't say anything else.

* * *

  **PRESENT **

Kazuichi gripped the wrench so tightly that the edge of the handle dug into his flesh. When he removed it, there were marks where he had held it, and the garage was quiet, and his mind stopped racing.

How could he have forgotten that?

Of course, the answer to that was obvious, since most of his present problems could be traced back to the Neo World Program. Still, it was surreal to think that the Gundham who'd given him a hamster to pet and the Gundham he'd clashed with in the simulation were the same person. The rival he'd loathed because he had the audacity to draw Sonia's attention away from him. Unless his memories were fooling him. Truth be told, Kazuichi couldn't be sure what was real and what was not anymore.

His memories were hazy and indiscernible. His memories of being Ultimate Despair were present, however a tangled mess of sensation. In the last few days, there had been some fleeting things that seemed familiar. He remembered Fuyuhiko lighting his first cigarette. He remembered the unyielding stare of Izuru. He remembered the way Junko's fake fingernails drew across his flesh. But never before had a memory resurfaced with such sudden clarity, shedding a bit of focus on an unfocused mess.

Kazuichi put the wrench back on the workbench, wiped his hands on his jumpsuit, and surveyed the driveway. He'd unintentionally slept under the truck all night. Now he was stiff and sore, but it wasn't the first time he'd fallen asleep in such a strange place. Fresh daylight poured across the trees and foliage. He'd missed breakfast and his stomach was growling, but an unavoidable impending sense of dread looming over him. He'd have to go back into the house, face Sonia, and somehow fix the mess he'd created.

Kazuichi left the garage. Almost at once, he caught the smell of cigarette smoke. He walked along the perimeter of the garage and found Fuyuhiko smoking behind it.

"There you are,” said Fuyuhiko. “You missed breakfast.”

“Wasn’t hungry,” Kazuichi lied, just as his stomach growled. “Hey, where's Sonia at?”

“I think she's feeding Gundham's ham—wait...Did you just call her Sonia? What happened to ‘Miss Sonia?’”

“That’s—that’s not important!”

“Hmph. Whatever you say.”

“...Can I have one?”

“Have what? A cigarette? Hell, no! This is a dirty habit!”

“C’mon, hand it over!”

“Forget it!”

He wrestled with Fuyuhiko for a minute before using his size to his advantage and seizing his cigarette package. It took another minute of struggle before the Ultimate Yakuza gave up and surrendered his matches.

Kazuichi was surprised how natural and easy it felt as he lit the cigarette. He expected to choke on the taste but instead easily inhaled the welcoming stench.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who picked up a shitty habit,” Fuyuhiko muttered. “Just so you know, I'm gonna quit—and it's gonna be a hell of a lot harder if you pick this up, too!"

"You sure don't look like someone who plans to quit!" Kazuichi cackled.

“I’m working on it!” Fuyuhiko snapped.

“Besides, I’m not gonna make a habit out of this. This is just to calm my nerves!”

They spent a few minutes smoking in silence. Kazuichi was delaying and he knew it. Any delay to the talk he had to have with Sonia was welcome.

"I remembered something from before," Kazuichi admitted.

"You did?" Fuyuhiko blinked. "What was it?"

Kazuichi told him about the memory.

"Peko, Gundham, and I robbed a petting zoo?" Fuyuhiko smirked. "Heh, That's something I almost want to remember. Your dad sounds like a jackass, by the way.”

"Can't argue with that," Kazuichi shrugged. "I guess it doesn't matter anymore. He's probably dead."

"Yeah, especially with us being Ultimate Despair," Fuyuhiko sighed and examined his cigarette. "Whatever happened to him, he probably deserved it."

Kazuichi didn't have the energy to disagree. 

“Asahina handed out a fucking chore list at breakfast,” Fuyuhiko scoffed. “She’s making me fix the window that Akane broke. I should probably warn you—she decided that you’re in charge of maintaining the stuff in the cellar, including the generator.”

Well, that was obvious. Kazuichi had expected the responsibility to fall on him since none of the others were remotely capable of anything related to mechanics.

Kazuichi extinguished his cigarette with the heel of his shoe. “I guess I’ll go check on that, then.”

“What?” Fuyuhiko sneered. “Afraid of talking to Sonia?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Kazuichi rounded the house, imputed the password at the cellar door, and descended into darkness. Neon lights automatically lit his path as he entered.

He hadn't paid much attention to the secret lair. After the five of them had woken up, they'd been whisked away to the safety of the clinic to hide and recuperate. Thus, he'd only gotten a quick glimpse of it as they were leaving, and he still found it a dark and unwelcoming place. Something that inspired familiarity somewhere in the haze of his lost memories.

Fifteen pods surrounded the central column. Five of them were empty.

Kazuichi tore his gaze away from the pods—it was all he could manage—and went directly to the computer station. Just as he sat down, the monitors lit up, and a floating face of appeared in front of him.

"Hello, Kazuichi!" the AI beamed. "I'm glad to see you again!"

"Hey, er—Alter Ego, right?" Kazuichi said. He vaguely remembered being introduced to the AI before being taken to the clinic. "Hina said I'm in charge of maintaining the equipment down here."

Alter Ego grinned. "That's great! You can come down and keep me company!"

“Don’t tell me you get lonely!”

Alter Ego's expression crumpled.

Crap, he messed up again. “S—Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

"It's okay," Alter Ego interrupted. "I think Hina would come down more often if she could, but she's got her hands full with you guys.”

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. "I'm not sure how much help I'm gonna be with all the programming stuff, though."

"It's okay, that's what I'm here for. It's just hard taking care of the equipment since I...well...don't have hands. To be honest, the generator is the biggest problem."

"How so?"

"These pods weren't meant to be used for such a long period of time and it puts a huge strain on our power supply."

Kazuichi waved him off. "Trust me, once I make a few modifications, that generator'll be able to power the whole settlement."

"A small task for the Ultimate Mechanic," said Alter Ego. "I've always wanted to see you in action."

Kazuichi swung around in his chair to face the room. "Y'know, I've been thinking, even though this place is password-protected, it doesn't exactly have many defences, does it?"

"Huh? You mean like traps or something?"

"Something like that. Anyone could barge in here if they wanted to and hurt the others."

"I guess you're right. If we work together, we might be able to create additional security measures."

"Like a Gatling gun?"

"Er...maybe something not so...deadly."

"Rocket launcher?"

"I don't think that's a good idea.”

"I never get to have any fun," Kazuichi mumbled. "So what's the status of the pods, anyways? Anything I should know?"

"Nothing life-threatening. Everybody's in stable condition as long as the pods are active. But, er, there is...something...I don't know if I should mention it or not. I got some strange readings from one of the pods overnight."

"What kind of readings? Whose pod?"

“It’s Gundham’s.”

Two images flashed before him. One of the Gundham who he’d argued within the simulation and the other who’d tended to his wounds.

Still, he had enough sense to shake himself out of his thoughts. That didn’t matter, not anymore. Kazuichi stood up and headed towards the pods at a leisurely pace. Having been so focused on the pods when he first entered, he now noticed a few shelves lined up next to the station. On the shelves were plastic bins labelled with the names of himself and his classmates.

“What’re those?” Kazuichi asked casually.

“Oh, those are your belongings,” said Alter Ego. “Makoto confiscated them before you went into the pods. You can take them back if you want.”

He hesitated. “Nah, I don’t think I want to know what Ultimate Despair me carried around.”

Kazuichi stood up and circled the pods, peering into each of them in search of Gundham Tanaka. It was the first time he'd seen any of them in the real world, and despite bubbling nausea in the pit of his stomach, he steeled himself. He was going to just have to get used to this.

Peko. Her silver hair splayed out.

Nekomaru. Muscular and imposing.

The Imposter. Dressed like someone Kazuichi didn’t recognize, nor did he expect to know.

Mahiru. Her face so pale that her freckles stood in stark contrast to her skin.

Hiyoko. Much more mature than he remembered. She actually had a figure.

Nagito. A faint smile at his lips.

Ibuki. Gaunt and unnaturally still.

Teruteru. Hands folded over his plump belly.

Mikan. Kazuichi gasped and staggered backward as he realized that her eyes were open, however unseeing and unconscious.

Then, he arrived at the last one. Kazuichi’s breath caught in his throat. When they had entered the pods, they’d all changed into plain black shorts and tank tops, but Gundham had kept his scarf with him. The scarf folded over his mouth, the fabric frayed and torn. Both of his arms were bandaged to his shoulders, while his dark hair had lost its shape and rested over the unscarred portion of his face.

“Well, I can see he never got past that Goth phase,” Kazuichi snorted. "What's the problem exactly?"

"His brain scans were picking up signs of rapid eye movement," said Alter Ego.

Kazuichi's brow furrowed. "So he's dreaming. What's so weird about that? He's in a coma, isn't it?"

"He is—but that's the problem. He shouldn't be dreaming."

"So...he's _not_ in a coma?"

"That's not it. His heart rate and breathing at indicative of a coma, though to be honest a doctor would probably have better insight into this..."

"Huh," Kazuichi scratched the back of his head. "Have any of the others been dreaming?"

"No, he's the only one."

"Could it be a sign that he's waking up?"

“Not necessarily...”

Kazuichi sighed. “I dunno. Maybe I’ll ask Hina if she can get one over here to check up on them, and I’ll have a look at the generator now to see if there’s any modifications I can—”

Kazuichi was cut off by a faint click sounding from somewhere nearby.

“What was that?” he asked.

Alter Ego paused, “Hey, Kazuichi, I think there’s something—”

The lights cut out.

Plunged into darkness, Kazuichi yelped, jumped back, and crashed into one of the pods.

“Not this again!” Kazuichi exclaimed. “There had better not be a dead body when the lights turn back on. H—hey, Alter Ego?! Little help?!”

No reply. Right. An AI was useless without power to sustain it. Kazuichi patted down his jumpsuit in search of his flashlight—only to remember that he didn’t have one with him.

“Shitty generator,” Kazuichi muttered. "From now on, I'm carrying a flashlight everywhere I go."

He was in darkness for another heartbeat before red emergency lights flicked on. Not nearly enough to discern the details of his surroundings, but enough to navigate the area. What a pain.

Kazuichi staggered towards the exit, hands extended to make sure he didn't bump into anything. He was halfway across the room when he came to a stop as his eyes strayed to the plastic bins. A light bulb went off in his head.

Surely even Despair Kazuichi kept a flashlight with him.

Going on his hunch, Kazuichi navigated to the shelves and scanned the labels for his name. He found it on the bottom shelf, roughly pulled it out, and spilled its contents onto the floor.

_ Clink. _

Kazuichi froze. There was a black jumpsuit with yellow accents—truly befitting of a Despair Kazuichi. A pair of yellow sneakers. A metal flashlight. And there was a switchblade that had fallen on the floor next to it.

If he hadn't found it tangled among his clothing, he would've been impressed. The blade was about nine inches, shimmering and clean. The handle was a shade of deep rose, except for the silvery knob and some distinct notches. Someone had modified it, and he immediately recognized his own handiwork.

Something in his memories stirred. Showing off his knife play to Sonia. Cutting his hand. The warm rush of blade penetrating flesh.

The bin clattered to the floor as Kazuichi rushed to press his hands over his ears.

“Stop,” he murmured. “Stop—stop—stop—stop— _stop!_ That wasn’t me! _It wasn’t me!_ ”

Thoughts accelerating, thoughts overlapping until they were a blur. Distant whispers—the voices of the dead. The room started spinning and he squatted on the floor, eyes tracing on the yellow accents of the jumpsuit. He's floating. He's floating somewhere near the ceiling. He has to get back to the ground. He had to stop. He had to stop. He had to  _stop_.

He crashed back down again.

Cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck. He was still squatting, his breath coming in painful, ragged gasps. Despite the increased need to breathe, he didn't seem to be able to take in oxygen.

"Get...get a hold of yourself," he hissed quietly.

And just like that, it was over. Every part of him seemed to be shaking, from his heart to his hands. Swallowing, Kazuichi took advantage of the moment of clarity to scoop up the flashlight. He was quick to put distance between himself and the switchblade.

Kazuichi flicked on the flashlight. It felt warm and familiar in his hand as he shone it on all the darkest corners of the room. He suddenly remembered where he was and what he was doing. As long as he thought about what he had to do, everything was fine.

The pods had self-sustaining emergency power, so they should be okay—as long as he got the generator up and running. It was all the more excuse to tinker, really, and improve their power output. Kazuichi went to the generator, which was housed behind an adjacent door in a cramped and unfriendly room.

The generator looked like it had been pieced together by random parts and it was clear that it had been modified. The job was sloppy at best, something done in desperation and short notice. No wonder the power had gone out; the thing didn't look like it could power a microwave.

When he dropped to his knees and began his assessment, Kazuichi's hands were still shaking. He held them in front of his face, willing them to stop.

"Get a hold of yourself," Kazuichi mumbled again.  


Kazuichi grabbed his flashlight and crawled back to his feet. He was going to need tools from the garage. That, and some fresh air. As he re-entered the cellar, he heard a sudden clatter of something falling to the floor.

“Now what?” Kazuichi groaned. “Hey, is someone in here? Hina? Hajime?”

No answer.

Kazuichi scanned the area with his flashlight, finally resting it on the place where he'd dropped his belongings.

The switchblade was gone.

“Very funny, guys!” Kazuichi called. “I know you’re just trying to freak me out! Where the hell did that damn thing go…?”

Kazuichi cast the light across the ground in search for a glint of the blade. It couldn’t have gotten up and walked away, so one of the others must be playing a prank on him. Maybe the whole blackout was a set up to begin—

His thoughts came to a screeching halt when his light found a waxy face floating in the darkness.

Kazuichi shrieked. The face rushed towards him, and something very solid rammed into his body. Tumbling head-over-heels, he landed face-down on the concrete. He fumbled for the flashlight. He spotted the glimmer of light and dove for it.

Heavy footfalls announced his approach. Kazuichi aimed his flashlight higher.

Looming over him was Gundham Tanaka. Fully clothed, expression pointed, and face as pale as he’d ever seen it. His body absorbed in a dark cloak and the switchblade held in one hand, his fingers roving over the blade.

“G—Gundham?!” Kazuichi squeaked. “What the hell?! But I thought—why are you—but you were— _what the fuck is going on?!_ ”

Kazuichi expected to Gundham to launch into a tirade and announce his resurrection. He expected a lecture, a long soliloquy of complex words without meaning. Really, he expected anything.

But instead, what Kazuichi saw in Gundham’s pale eyes was unmistakable, all-consuming despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should not be allowed to write.
> 
> Not sure how I feel about this chapter, I feel like the ending is kind of sudden. IDK. Maybe I'll feel differently once I come back and edit in a bit.
> 
> So, I've switched around a few of the tags a bit to more accurately reflect the story.
> 
> There IS going to be eventual smut! Hooray! Or not hooray, depending on how you feel about smut. Oh God, I hope my boyfriend never finds out that I'm going to write gay smut...HONEY, IF YOU'RE READING THIS, LOOK AWAY AND PRESERVE YOUR INNOCENCE.
> 
> Since smut will take up only a really small fraction of this story, I'm not going to change the rating to explicit—I'll just warn you at the beginning of chapters that contain sinning.
> 
> And yes, there is an explanation to things so...stay tuned!
> 
> Minor edits done on: 16/7/2016 and 13/10/2016


	4. Feeling Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!SPOILER WARNING!!!!!!!  
>  AS OF THIS CHAPTER, THIS FIC NOW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR BOTH ARCS OF DANGANRONPA 3: END OF HOPE'S PEAK ACADEMY. IF YOU AREN'T UP-TO-DATE ON THE LATEST EPISODES, GET YOUR REAR IN GEAR AND GO WATCH IT OR SOMETHING!
> 
> I'LL BE TALKING ABOUT SPOILERS AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER. DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU!!!

**PAST**

“This is my duty,” Peko pressed, voice gaining volume and confidence. “This is my purpose! This is the reason I was born!”  
  
“What’s the big deal?” he asked. “Are you worked up because you want to kill _for_ me or because you want to _stop_ me from killing?”  
  
Peko went quiet, even for Peko standards.  
  
“We’re doing this my way,” Fuyuhiko decided. “All I need you to do is get her into the girls’ bathroom—by force, if necessary.”  
  
“But—”  
  
“You’re always saying that you’re just a tool, so fucking act like one and do what I say!”  
  
He saw the exact moment her concern melted into hurt. His heart sank. He was the one who had put that expression of utter rejection on her face. But he didn’t have time to feel remorse, because he had a life to avenge and another to take.  
  
The bat felt more comfortable in his hands now.

* * *

  **PRESENT**

There was a click, a small bump, and the lights went out.  
  
Fuyuhiko had been leaning over the bathroom sink and scrutinizing his reflection. It took far more effort than it should have to remove the patch over his right eye, then work up the nerve to stare down his counterpart.

  
His left eye was its natural shade of gold.  
  
His right eye was a shade of pale blue.  
  
That was when the lights cut out, as if Junko was some spirit that could be summoned by saying her name three times in the mirror. But it was difficult to summon a demon in pitch darkness, and Fuyuhiko fumbled to put the patch back over his eye.  
  
“Kazuichi did something to the generator!” he shouted.  
  
“How d’ya know?” Akane called back from somewhere nearby.  
  
“Because I saw him go in the cellar! When you combine Kazuichi with a bunch of machines, shit happens! It’s common fucking sense!”  
  
“Don’t make me start a swear jar, Fuyuhiko!” Hina yelled, also from somewhere nearby.  
  
Fuyuhiko wrenched the door open. “YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU’RE NOT MY MOM!”  
  
“No, but I do have a stun gun!”  
  
“You do not!”  
  
“Do too!”  
  
“THEN PROVE IT!”  
  
Fuyuhiko swung out of the bathroom, went down the stairs, through the kitchen, and down the hall. He slammed into Hina as he rounded the corner. And there she was, with a satisfied smirk as she wagged a stun gun in his face.  
  
“Where the fuck did you get that?” Fuyuhiko probed.  
  
“Found it under my bed, along with a note from Byakuya,” Hina shrugged. “He left me a small arsenal of...supplies.”  
  
“And by ‘supplies,’ you mean ‘weapons?’”  
  
“It’s not like it was my idea. This is Byakuya we’re talking about—he has contingency plans for his contingency plans.”  
  
Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes and was about to exercise his sarcasm when Hajime made his untimely appearance.  
  
“Did we have a blackout?” Hajime asked.  
  
“No, genius, we just like standing around in the dark,” Fuyuhiko snapped.  
  
“I’m surprised the power went out,” Hina admitted. “The generator’s pretty reliable and Alter Ego manages most of the power output. We never had any trouble with it while you guys were running around in the Neo World Program—even had power to spare.”  
  
“It’s Kazuichi,” Fuyuhiko said dismissively. “He went into the cellar earlier and probably thought it’d be a good idea to do some experimenting.”  
  
“That’s just great,” Hajime sighed. “Knowing him, he’s trying to turn the generator into a rocket ship or something.”  
  
“Hopefully it’s something he can put back together,” said Hina. “Fuyuhiko and I will go see what he’s up to.”  
  
“What?!” Fuyuhiko exclaimed. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”  
  
“I’m not asking you out on a date, Fuyuhiko,” Hina scoffed. “You don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”  
  
“I am not being dramatic!”  
  
“ _Prove it_!”  
  
He and Hina glowered at one another, faces mere inches away. It was like a scene in one of Sonia's terrible soap operas where the two halves of the love-hate relationship suddenly kissed. Except there wasn't any love in this relationship—only hate. An acceleration of heat rose from his heart and spread like a tumour, solidifying his resolve. He could see fire within Hina, as well. A damn fire that slowly torched everything he cherished—his friends, his freedom, and his purpose. The Future Foundation had crossed many lines since he'd first come into contact with them, but never had they so blatantly invaded his territory or threatened his freedom. Fuyuhiko didn't know if it was Hina's words or the ones racing through his mind, but something red-hot reached into his gut and yanked, screaming at him to act. As much as he wanted to scream profanities at her, one touch of Hajime's glare was enough to swing him back to reality.  
  
Hajime pricked a hole in his confidence. All without saying a word.  
  
There was no way he was going to let Hina have control. He broke the stare before she could.  
  
Fuyuhiko allowed her to lead the way to the basement, though by no means did he allow her to manipulate his sense of security. If Hina thought they could hug it out, she was in for a sick surprise. The best Fuyuhiko could hope to do was wait for her frustration to outmanoeuvre her optimism, to thrust her into enough despair for her to leave. Then there would be no more support groups. No more assignments. No more anything. Just him and his friends and their eternal watch over their comatose friends.  
  
When they arrived at the cellar and propped open the doors, they peered into a still, dark chasm. Being in closed quarters with Hina wasn't his idea of a fun time, but all the same he entered—allowing the red veins of the emergency lights to guide him deeper. His attention immediately shifted to the pods—directly to the one that contained Peko. He hurried forwards. Beneath the translucent surface, her silver hair splayed out like a halo of moonlight.  
  
"As long as we get the power back on, they should be fine," Hina assured him. "I don't see Kazuichi around, though. Are you sure he came down here?"  
  
"You calling me a liar?" Fuyuhiko spat.  
  
"I can think of a few things I'd like to call you. Liar isn't one of them."  
  
"If you had any backbone, you'd say what you mean."  
  
The silence charred through him like machine gun fire. Fuyuhiko barely got to turn before he found Hina right over his shoulder. Usually her limpid blue eyes were clear—like shallow pools at low tide. Only now they were the depths of the ocean, there to ensnare and drag him into his watery grave.  
  
She lay her hand flat on his chest and shoved him against Peko's pod.  
  
"Listen up, Kuzuryu!" Hina shouted. "You're becoming more annoying than Byakuya—and that's quite the achievement!"  
  
"You got some nerve shoving me around!" Fuyuhiko snarled.  
  
"Apparently the calisthenics aren't working on you. We're gonna have to fix that!"  
  
"You can try, bitch! I'm just waiting until you pack up and finally leave us alone!"  
  
"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"  
  
"Because I'm gonna make you, one way or another."  
  
"You can't intimidate me!"  
  
"Watch me!"  
  
"I'm not gonna—ugh, what the hell is that _noise_?!”  
  
Fuyuhiko's anger screeched to a halt, annoyed at the pounding noise that interrupted his polite conversation with Hina. For a second, he thought it might be the generator trying to come back on, but beyond the pounding was a muffled voice.  
  
He surveyed the area and didn't have to go far to find the source. A few pods over, a face peered back at him beyond the tinted glass.  
  
"What the fuck?" he blurted out.  
  
It was definitely Kazuichi, and his eyes were wide and frantic as Fuyuhiko hurried over. Kazuichi had become a trapped animal, flailing madly and hitting the glass.  
  
"How the hell did you get locked in there?" Fuyuhiko asked.  
  
Kazuichi answered with an indistinguishable yell and panicked pointing.  
  
"I can't hear you, dumbass!" Fuyuhiko yelled. "Sit tight, I'll get this open. Asahina?"  
  
"There should be a release at the head of the pod," said Hina.  
  
"What an idiot," Fuyuhiko mumbled. "I should've known he'd do something stupid. What—do you think this is some sort of game, Kazuichi?!"  
  
The slightest pinprick of pain shot up his back.  
  
A voice pressed into his ear. "This is no game.”  
  
There was a blizzard in his head. It was a complete whiteout, but instead of being cozy at home by the fire, he was lost in the middle of it. As all thoughts went irrevocably blank, there was one small thing he was able to see through the storm. It was the look on Hina's face. Hina had a magnetic energy, like an motivational speaker, but all that energy drained out. Her face was white and pinched. Her trembling hand rose to shield her mouth, perhaps to prevent a scream from escaping. Her eyes bugged out. He could see that she, too, was caught in the blizzard—slapped silly by a storm, unable to react except to watch disaster strike in slow motion.  
  
It wasn't an expression he liked seeing on the face of Aoi Asahina.  
  
Fuyuhiko tilted his head to the right, only to remember that he couldn't see out of that eye. He went to the left instead.  
  
Gundham Tanaka was uncomfortably close and had a knife poking into his back. Not enough to pierce flesh. Just enough to make the intent clear.  
  
At once, Fuyuhiko sensed something was terribly wrong. Gundham didn't look like himself. This Gundham was much too pale, his steely eyes alight with malice. He looked like a crow in his billowing overcoat.  
  
The blizzard cleared. His racing thoughts returned.  
  
_Gundham Tanaka had a fucking knife at his back._  
  
“G—Gundham?" Hina stammered.  
  
Gundham didn't look at her. Hleaned forwards and put his mouth next to Fuyuhiko's ear.  
  
"Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu," he said acidly. "Speak the words."  
  
"What the fuck are you doing?" Fuyuhiko demanded, his mouth recovering far faster than his mind did. "Get that knife away from me before I break your arm."  
  
Was that disappointment on Gundham's face? The guy was never easy to read.  
  
"Those are not the words," Gundham lamented. "I expected slow-wittedness from Kazuichi...but not from you. This is an unfavourable outcome."  
  
"Move. The. Knife.”  
  
"Wait!" Hina cried. "Gundham, I know—I know you have to be confused, but—but just drop the knife! We can talk about this!"  
  
"Silence, worm!" Gundham shouted. "There is nothing to discuss! I have a purpose to fulfill and you are not part of it!"  
  
"I'm giving you one last chance to move that knife," Fuyuhiko growled. "That's more than most people get."  
  
"You have given me far too many chances already. The Kuzuryu I know never hesitates. Prove to me who you are, or die by the hand of Tanaka the Forbidden One!"  
  
Enough talk.  
  
Fuyuhiko pulled back his leg and delivered a swift kick to Gundham's knee. Then an elbow to his face. Gundham staggered—just enough for Fuyuhiko to whirl around and wrench away control of the knife. He was vaguely aware of Hina shouting as he advanced on the Ultimate Breeder, rage transferred from Hina to Gundham. Fuyuhiko sliced left. Right. Gundham dodged both times, then vaulted over one of the pods to avoid him. Fuyuhiko followed him over, knife swinging.  
  
Then it stopped in mid-air.  
  
Why had it stopped?  
  
Fuyuhiko emerged from the haze of adrenaline just enough to see Gundham's fist curled around the blade. He blinked in astonishment. Ribbons of blood squeezed out between Gundham's fingers, rolling down to snake over both their hands.  
  
What an ass.  
  
Gundham's knee jerked. Fuyuhiko belatedly thought to clenched his stomach, to prepare for the blow—but the call came far too late. Oxygen rushed out of his lungs. He staggered back against the pod and the switchblade fell out of his hand, clattering far too loudly against the floor. Gundham's bloodied hand reached for it.  
  
There was a pop, then a spark of electric light.  
  
Gundham jolted, a strained yell caught in his throat. His limbs flailed like a puppet that had its strings cut loose. Then, he collapsed to the floor with a sickening crash, and stopped moving. Hina was behind him, the stun gun still raised to the spot where she had rammed it into the back of his neck.  
  
Well. That was different.  
  
Leaning against the pod, Fuyuhiko pulled himself to his feet, and the two of them gawked at the unconscious form beneath them. Gundham Tanaka, up and running about, and having just made an effort to kill him. Not a good combination. But through the revelation, Fuyuhiko’s pride still stun.  
  
“I had that!” Fuyuhiko spluttered.  
  
"Not now, Fuyuhiko," Hina panted. "There's handcuffs by the computer station. Cuff Gundham while I get Kazuichi out of the pod."  
  
"W...why the hell do you have handcuffs here?"  
  
"According to Makoto, some of the Remnants didn't go into the pods willingly. Go get them."  
  
Fuyuhiko followed her directions, but only because he didn't like the idea of a crazed Gundham running around the island. He was bad enough even before the world had ended. There was no mistaking in what had motivated him to stick a knife in his back. The only explanation for anything. Because he remembered, and because Gundham's only goal in life now was the consumption of despair—an appetite that would never be satiated.  
  
Fuyuhiko found the handcuffs in a drawer and put them on Gundham's wrists, being sure to put his hands behind his back. He worked as quickly as possible, having not yet forgotten that it was Gundham who had defeated Nekomaru in single combat. Meanwhile, Hina pulled on the manual switch and pried open the pod. Kazuichi immediately scrambled out, tugging at his hair.  
  
"Are you alright?" Hina asked.  
  
"Am I alright?!" Kazuichi shrieked. "DO I LOOK ALRIGHT?!"  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Oh, nothing much! The Forbidden One and I were having a tea party! What do you think happened?!"  
  
Hina grabbed his shoulders. "You're gonna have to be more specific. Now tell me what happened!"  
  
Kazuichi inhaled. "I—I dunno! It happened so fast! Alter Ego told me that—that he picked up some weird scans from Gundham's pod overnight, and he was telling me about it. But then the lights went out and he attacked me and shoved me in the fucking pod! He kept going on about...about some words he wanted to hear or something. I dunno!"  
  
"Where'd he get the knife"  
  
"It's...It's mine."  
  
Fuyuhiko's attention whirled around so fast, he almost got whiplash.  
  
"Well, it—it used to be mine," Kazuichi corrected himself. "It was in the bin that had my stuff in it. I guess he just took it when the lights went out..."  
  
A ear-piercing creak filled the cellar, and they all rounded as a thin beam of light migrated across the floor. It came to a rest just shy of where Gundham lay. The arrival of the light also heralded the arrival of a set of light footsteps.  
  
"Pardon the interruption, but I heard most disconcerting noises outside," Sonia chimed. "Is anything the mat..."  
  
Sonia trailed off like a musical note held for far too long, like a plucked guitar string left to die out of existence. Her eyes shuddered closed, then opened again—the disbelief etched in every part of her face, from her tense brow to her open mouth.  
  
She unleashed a bloodcurdling scream.  
  
Sonia half-sprinted, half-staggered forwards and collapsed by Gundham's side, her hands tracing his back.  
  
"Gundham!" she cried. "Pray tell, what happened?! W—why are his hands bound?!"  
  
Hina hurried to Sonia's side and gripped her arm. "Look, it's—it's complicated, but...I don't think he remembers anything about the simulation. I think he's gone back to being Ultimate Despair."  
  
Sonia recoiled. Her fingers now hesitated, terrified of waking a sleeping giant.  
  
"Okay, here's the game plan," Hina said authoritatively. "Kazuichi, get the generator up and running. I need to get in touch with Makoto and Kyoko. Sonia, go tell the others what's going on. Fuyuhiko, take Gundham upstairs and...and—I dunno, tie him to a chair. Get Akane to stand guard—and duct tape his mouth or something!"  
  
"Why?" Fuyuhiko snapped. "Afraid of what he'll tell us?"  
  
There was no indecision in Hina now. "More like I'm afraid of what he'll try to make you do.”

* * *

 

Kazuichi was always quick to exaggerate and this time proved to be no different. No sooner had Gundham been safely tied to a chair in the kitchen, when he was spreading the tale of his desperate struggle with Gundham. It was a harrowing tale of survival that involved Gundham raising an undead hamster army and attempting to turn their comatose friends into human sacrifices. Had the situation not been so dire, Fuyuhiko would've found some amusement in it.  
  
But it wasn't amusing.  
  
The group spent the rest of the day running around in varying states of panic and shock. Not a moment of peace was to be found. It was hours before Kazuichi was able to get the generator (and Alter Ego) back online. Of course, Hina was quick to usher them out of the cellar so she could try to contact Makoto and the others. That left the rest of them trying to make sense of Gundham's sudden revival, when the others showed no signs of the same miraculous recovery. Not that anything resembling Ultimate Despair could be considered miraculous.  
  
By the time the sun started to set, the house had quieted, though tension was still high. Hina had barricaded herself in the cellar. Gundham had regained unconsciousness, though what with the tape over his mouth, he hadn't spoken. He didn't even look at them, just stared at the floor, with no signs of movement. He may as well have still been in a coma.  
  
As the sun receded—creating a vibrant pool of orange and pink overhead—Fuyuhiko was unable to leave the cellar doors. The others could pretend that they didn't have a member of Ultimate Despair in their kitchen, but he couldn't. And he also couldn't pretend that Hina seemed to have all but disappeared.  
  
What was she doing down there? She must've gotten a hold of Makoto and the others by now, so what was with the  delay?  
  
Were they planning their strategy?  
  
Had they decided to turn them over to the Future Foundation?  
  
What was going to happen to the Remnants?  
  
Fuyuhiko had been worried about putting their lives in the hands of Makoto and the others. He'd never liked the fact that one slip of the tongue was all that was between the Remnants and certain execution at the hands of the Future Foundation. The only reason he'd agreed to stay on Jabberwock Island was because he'd been outvoted by the others. Leaving wasn't an option, not just because Peko was in the cellar, but because there wasn't anywhere to go. There was no more yakuza, no more world, no _nothing_. Their best hope was to stay put. After all they'd been through, would Makoto and the others really turn them in?  
  
A string of increasingly outrageous possibilities snowballed through his mind. Scenarios as strange as the Remnants, as unorthodox as Junko's philosophies, and as fleeting as the clouds overhead. What was a small fear swelled in size to become a cascade of pessimism far out of his control. It was a fiction that quickly became reality for him—the truth that guided his life.  
  
Would Makoto and the others determine that the Remnants were beyond rehabilitation? Would they decide that they had to face the consequences for atrocities they couldn't remember committing? Each scenario was more terrible than the last.  
  
The question popped up again. What was going to happen to the Remnants?  
  
What was going to happen to _them?_  
  
"Are you still out here?"  
  
Fuyuhiko yelped as a terribly unbalanced sensation shot like lightening through his body. Whipping around, he found Hajime right next to him.  
  
"Don't fucking sneak up on me like that!" Fuyuhiko chided.  
  
"You mean you only just noticed me?" Hajime asked. "I've been standing here for a while, you know."  
  
"Give me some warning next time!"  
  
"Okay," Hajime drawled. "Here's a warning...I'm gonna sneak up on you again."  
  
"Tch, fucking sarcastic little..."  
  
Fuyuhiko clenched his hands in his pockets.  
  
"They're talking about us," Fuyuhiko snarled, glaring at the cellar doors.  
  
"How do you know?" Hajime asked.  
  
"I just know, okay? I hate it when people talk about me behind my back."  
  
"I thought you didn't care?"  
  
"Only when they don't say it to my fucking face."  
  
Hajime pursed his lips. It looked like he was making some sarcastic internal remark, but had the sense not to say it out loud.  
  
"Y'know, I don't get you sometimes," Fuyuhiko admitted. "You have a genocidal alter ego. Doesn't that bother you?"  
  
"Of course it bothers me," said Hajime. "You were there when we woke up. I think we were all a mess."  
  
"Not me!" Fuyuhiko denied. "There's nothing wrong with me! I'm fine!"  
  
"I didn't say there _was_ anything wrong with you," Hajime pointed out. "But after we left the Neo World Program, everything was just different from what I expected it to be. All I know is that I'm not Izuru Kamukura."  
  
"Heh...I guess it's some comfort to know that the person who traipsed after Junko was something Hope's Peak created. It's not something you're responsible for. You're lucky, you know? I mean that. You really are lucky."  
  
"That's—that's not what I meant, Fuyuhiko."  
  
Fuyuhiko scoffed and said, "They're hiding shit from us."  
  
Weird. Who knew his voice could tremble that much.  
  
"Don't you think you're taking it a little too personally?" Hajime asked.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Fuyuhiko snapped. "You're supposed to be on my side!"  
  
"I _am_ on your side!"  
  
"Could've fooled me. They're hiding shit from us...and I'm gonna find out what it is."  
  
"Hey, where're you going?" Hajime asked as Fuyuhiko turned away.  
  
"I just told you," Fuyuhiko said. "I'm getting answers.”  
  
His voice was more certain than he felt in that moment, as id it mattered. He shrugged Hajime off and retained no memory of walking through the house, though he was fairly certain that Kazuichi said something to him as he passed through the living room.  
  
Fuyuhiko knew that what he was about to do was not going to end well. His jaw was clenched so tightly that his jaw ached. No, he shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't _want_ to do this. But his body was acting of its own accord, the familiar crackle of red-hot emotions simmering. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind, an incessant voice still buzzed.  
  
No. Don't do this. Wait to see what Hina wants to do. Don't talk to him. No.  
  
But not acting would mean embracing ignorance.  
  
The kitchen was brightly lit and welcoming, so unlike the dark, brooding figure tied to a chair in the corner. Gundham did not struggle. Akane was sitting with her feet on the table, so that the hem of her panties was just visible. If Fuyuhiko was in a more critical mood, he would’ve pointed it out. But there were bigger problems on hand.  
  
“I can take over guarding him,” he said.  
  
"Nah, I got it," Akane replied. "He's not doing anything, anyways."  
  
"No, really. I can take over."  
  
"Hina said I'm guardin' him, so I'm guardin' him! What, you think I can't do it?"  
  
The ache in his jaw exploded in agony. Of all the times for Akane to be stubborn, why did it have to be now?  
  
Fortunately, being clever than her didn't take too much effort.  
  
"Sure, whatever," Fuyuhiko shrugged in his best I-don't-care tone. He sat on top of the counter and let a minute of silence pass. "Kazuichi was running his mouth off earlier."  
  
"Kazuichi's always running his mouth off," Akane snorted.  
  
"Yeah. He was talking shit about how you...ah, never mind."  
  
Akane bolted upright. "Huh? What? He was talking about me?"  
  
"Nah, it's not important."  
  
"C'mon, what'd he say?" Akane leapt up, jaw set. "Tell me before I hit you!"  
  
"Okay, okay, if you really want to know...We were talking about how big the island is in comparison to the one in the Neo World Program. He said that he thought that even you couldn't run all the way around it without collapsing from exhaustion."  
  
Akane was aflame. "THAT ASSHOLE!"  
  
Fuyuhiko strolled to the back door and held it open.  
  
"I'LL SHOW HIM!" Akane shouted, puffing out her chest, her clothes barely containing her oversized bust. "I'll run around this island _three times_!”  
  
Akane unleashed an Amazonian war cry that would make Nekomaru tremble and charged into the waning sunlight. He locked the door behind her.  
  
Fuyuhiko turned his head a quarter to the left.  
  
Gundham was watching, steely eyes combing over him. What a prick.  
  
Fuyuhiko got to work. First, he drew the blinds on all the windows, drowning out the sound of insects parading through the dusk. Then, he propped a chair against the kitchen door. It wouldn't be enough to stop a forceful kick from the other side, but it was enough to give him fair warning. When he was done, he stood with his back to Gundham, wrestling with his will to continue. Not even his dreams had been as quiet as the one that lay over the kitchen. His pulse lodged in the back of his throat. He ignored it. Terror wasn't welcome in his book.  
  
Fuyuhiko dragged another chair across the room and placed it in front of Gundham. He took his time sitting down and with one fast motion, he removed the duct tape.  
  
Gundham had on a smile that looked like barbed wire, and it sliced Fuyuhiko's resolve. Still, no turning back now.  
  
“An apprentice near the temple will recite the scriptures untaught,” Gundham imparted.  
  
"What did you say?" Fuyuhiko asked.  
  
"An apprentice near the temple will recite the scriptures untaught," he repeated. "It is a Japanese proverb. Do you understand its meaning?"  
  
"I'm not interested in your shitty idioms."  
  
"Of course you aren't. I had a premonition that you would be the one to approach me, not Izuru as many would expect. It is painfully obvious that he finds solace in the guise of Hajime Hinata. The same guise he renowned when he joined Lady Enoshima in her never-ending quest to liberate this world from the confines of hope."  
  
"And you're already talking nonsense. Good job."  
  
"I was wondering why Aoi Asahina was here," Gundham continued, "but I understand now."

Fuyuhiko folded his arms and legs. “Oh, yeah? Enlighten me.”  
  
"Asahina subscribes to the philosophies of Makoto Naegi, a man whose healing touch is said to reverse the effects of despair," Gundham chuckled. "She sincerely believes she can repair the 'damage' Lady Enoshima has done. But we both know how ridiculous that is. I can see it in your eyes, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu. Despair may yet reclaim you."

“Stop talking shit,” Fuyuhiko snapped. “I’m here for answers, not to listen to you become the worst motivational speaker ever.”  
  
Gundham had the audacity to laugh at him. Fuyuhiko's temper boiled and threatened to burst, but he restrained himself at the last minute. Gundham couldn't talk with a broken nose.  
  
"How much do you remember about the Neo World Program?" Fuyuhiko asked.  
  
"I remember nothing," Gundham declared, a note of pride in his voice. "However, based on conversations I have overheard since my awakening, I know that I perished in that false paradise. Now...tell me...who did I kill?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Who did I kill in the simulation? Whose life did I mercifully snuff out of existence? What was my manner of execution?"  
  
"What makes you think you were a murderer? Maybe someone killed _you_."  
  
"I do not possess the capacity to be a victim. When Izuru imparted the details of the plan to us, I had aspirations that I would destroy a worthy opponent, rather than prey upon the weak. There is no glory in killing the feeble-minded."  
  
"Then you'll be happy to know you killed Nekomaru in cold blood, you psychopath."  
  
"Excellent. Lady Enoshima smiles upon me today."  
  
"Glad you're pleased with yourself. Now shut your mouth before I break your fucking teeth, Tanaka. I'll get straight to the point. You're talking like you expected to wake up from the start. Just what the hell is going on and how did you come out of a coma when everyone else is still unconscious?"  
  
"To the point, indeed. Simply put, I am the hunter among the wolves."  
  
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"The Ultimate Despair were the wolves among the sheep. I am the hunter among the wolves. I willingly volunteered to become a disappointment to the cause of Ultimate Despair...but I am also its greatest salvation."  
  
"How are you a disappointment to Ultimate Despair?"  
  
"Because I was given a different purpose," Gundham answered. "I make no secret of it. The visage of Lady Enoshima you encountered in the false paradise entertained the possibility of being defeated for a second time. She sensed the possibility of her acolytes losing the sweet taste of despair and falling, again, into the infinite void of hope. For that reason, I was created."  
  
“Created?”  
  
"Yes. When my life ended in the false paradise, my consciousness was preserved by a subtle string of programming forged by our dear Lady Enoshima. If Lady Enoshima succeeded in her plan, then she would have overwritten my consciousness and taken over my mortal form. Then I would be able to exist as her...to be able to embody her despair. There was no greater aspiration. But if her plan failed, then I was to awaken. I was to be resurrected from the dead...and I was to carry out her final request."  
  
"And what request was that?"  
  
"To remind any survivors of the false paradise of who they were. I was to remind them of despair."  
  
Ugh. "Why you? Don't you think there are others in our group more capable of that kind of task, like Izuru?"  
  
"Izuru was unpredictable, even when he expressed complete loyalty towards Lady Enoshima," Gundham pointed out. "Nekomaru and Akane were not intelligent enough to be capable of spreading our message. Peko was far too dedicated to you to be relied upon, particularly if you perished. I was chosen not only because I am loyal and only loyal to Lady Enoshima...but also because I have the ability to kill."

Fuyuhiko grappled with his increasing urge to wipe the smugness off of Gundham’s face. Preferably with force.  
  
"When I awoke, there was a specific passphrase to be spoken by anyone who still identified as Ultimate Despair. If they failed to convey their sincerity, then they were no longer aligned with our cause and would need readjustment. Both you and Kazuichi failed to provide this passphrase, but I did not anticipate that you had no recollection of our time as Ultimate Despair. It will make my task significantly more difficult, however it is still attainable."  
  
"So...so you're telling me...that Junko protected you...so you could wake up if she failed...and either get us to turn back into Ultimate Despair or _fucking kill us_?!"  
  
"I do not recall saying that I would kill you. But yes, I would kill anyone that could not be corrected. Junko's greatest fear was that the world would forget despair. For that, she needed her acolytes to carry on her teachings. She needed us. I disappointed Junko for failing to further her initial plan...but I can find redemption."  
  
"That's insane! It would never work!”  
  
"You should be grateful! Lady Enoshima would have wanted us to die rather than indulge in the foolish notion of help! She sacrificed the world for us, and you repay her with treachery and slander!"  
  
"She didn't do it for us! She only used us to tear the fucking world apart!"  
  
"She showed us what humanity was capable of!" Gundham shouted. "Everything she did, she did to permit us to see the truth! She liberated us from the false promises of Hope's Peak! How could you possibly understand anything about our motivations when you do not even remember?! The world is in the process of repairing itself—and if you genuinely believe that this uneasy peace will last, you are a fool!"  
  
"You don't get to sit there and fucking lecture me like Chisa did!"  
  
A needle pierced a hole in his memory. A floodgate burst open. He saw past Gundham, deep into the lost years. He remembered a perky brunette, rallying the class together when they couldn't be any more divided. Having the guts to threaten him with a knife when everyone else looked the other way.  
  
There was undisguised shock on Gundham's face, which quickly faded.  
  
"So you do remember," he remarked. "If not the entirety of it, then at least a small sliver in the shadows of your mind. Soon you will remember how Chisa was the greatest fool of all for ever having hope for us."  
  
“You’re sick, Tanaka,” Fuyuhiko seethed. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you right now.”  
  
"Hmph. Am I sick? I suppose I once believed that. Once, I only saw the world in black and white...and then Lady Enoshima came and I saw colour for the first time."  
  
He scoffed.  
  
"And now I sit here in a house of fools," he grumbled. "If Lady Enoshima was here now, she would be disappointed in all of us."  
  
"All this talk about disappointment. Like I'd care if Junko was disappointed in me!"  
  
"But you did care, and you cared enough to slice off those fingers.”  
  
Gundham's voice curled around him, poisonous and far too loud, though his tone was barely a whisper.  
  
"You disappointed her on three separate occasions," Gundham continued, steady and resolute. "You were the greatest disappointment of us all...and yet still Junko loved you."  
  
"She wanted us to die!"  
  
"She wanted to spare us the pain of hope!"  
  
"What pain?! The only pain I'm getting is from talking to you!"  
  
"Sacrificing our identities was the best way to continue the spread of despair! We are the Remnants of Despair! We are a disease! We did this all for Junko Enoshima!"  
  
The voice in his head won. Time to stop the conversation. Do not pass 'Go.' Fuyuhiko stood and headed to the back door.  
  
"I'm not listening to anymore of this shit," he decided. "You're fucking nuts!"  
  
"I am not the only sinner under this roof! Do you know what happened to Novoselic?"  
  
Fuyuhiko stopped dead. There was a rawness in Gundham's words, as raw as skin exposed to the sun for far too long.  
  
"What does Sonia's country have to do with anything?" Fuyuhiko asked cautiously.  
  
"Novoselic has to do with everything," Gundham spat. "Junko was not able to spread her cause through word of mouth alone. She obtained assistance from the princess of a lesser European nation, a princess prepared to have her own parents assassinated so she could assume the throne."  
  
"W—what?"  
  
"Sonia Nevermind is the queen of a land of ruins, a land stripped bare so every resource could be dedicated to despair."  
  
"That's—that's not true! Makoto would've said something!"  
  
"Akane Owari. Barricaded her seven siblings in their home and set it aflame. She made popcorn and invited us all to watch, until the screams went silent."  
  
"That's a lie! Akane would never hurt her brothers and sisters!"  
  
"Kazuichi Soda tortured his father for a fortnight. He laughed the entire time."  
  
“Fuck off!"  
  
"Izuru Kamukura orchestrated the deaths of entire cities, defaced a nation, and surrendered his identity to despair!"  
  
"WHAT WAS THE POINT?!" Fuyuhiko seized Gundahm's shoulders and shook, as if he could shake some sense into the guy. "Answer me! It didn't have any point! The world ended! WHAT WAS IT ALL FOR?!"  
  
The doorknob was rattling.  
  
"Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, the epitome of all that is disappointing" Gundham said quietly.  
  
Fuyuhiko's heart constricted. Gundham no longer saw him. He was in a dreamlike state, he had become possessed, he had become a proxy for the unheard, cynical voice of Junko Enoshima. The same poisoned cocktail he'd seen in Junko's eyes—the same right eye he now possessed. Now Gundham looked at him as if he, too, was part of that dream of despair.  
  
"You forced your entire family to commit seppuku, then seized the assets of the Kuzuryu clan to serve as Junko's personal army," Gundham whispered. "You are personally responsible for the deaths of several Future Foundation members. You fought alongside us in battle. You proved you had no need to hide behind Pekoyama. You were the most feared man in the world. And now you squander your ability by shivering like an infant and asking what purpose despair has."  
  
That was it. Gundham had just torched the future Fuyuhiko had hoped to build.  
  
"You once told me that it was a shame your sister died before you could do it yourself," Gundham mused. "An apprentice near the temple will recite the scriptures untaught. You do not understand despair, Fuyuhiko, because you have not be submerged in it like I have. You are but a shadow of your potential."  
  
"Shut up," Fuyuhiko wavered. "Shut up! SHUT UP—SHUT UP—SHUT UP!"  
  
A heart stopping second passed. Then another. Fuyuhiko lunged. The chair tipped. Gundham slammed to the ground. Fuyuhiko landed on top of him. The volcano that had been brewing up since he'd first laid eyes on Gundham reached full eruption. A big black cloud, town-destroying, people-killing, civilization-destroying eruption that cascaded down the mountain of his mind and wiped out everything in its path.  
  
Fuyuhiko pinned Gundham down with his left hand and drew his right as far back as it could. Gundham gazed up at him with a mix of dissonant serenity and morbid fascination. He made no effort to move.  
  
That suited Fuyuhiko just fine.  
  
He lost track of how many times he punched Gundham at around a dozen. He kept swinging, relishing every rush of satisfaction he got form defacing the Ultimate Breeder. The last sensation he was aware of before being swamped with rage was Gundham's laughter. A thick, deep laugh only thrusting Fuyuhiko deep into a strange sort of unconsciousness where he had no control over anything.  
  
His ears were ringing.  
  
No more noise. Just small pulses of muffled. So this was what it was like to kill someone.  
  
Then again...he'd killed before.  
  
He'd killed Sato.  
  
Sato. Her shoes squeaking against the bathroom floor. Her screams for mercy. Choking on her own blood as the metal bat sank into her face and skull. It was like beating a watermelon to death, except the watermelon kept fighting back. Even when she went still, he kept throwing down the bat with strength that would make Leon Kuwata jealous.  
  
Natsumi died. Sato died. Then Mahiru died. Peko died. Ibuki, Hiyoko, Mikan—all dead. Everyone in the fun little Twilight Syndrome Murder Case Club was dead.  
  
So how in the _ever living fuck_ was he still alive?  
  
Fuyuhiko tumbled through a gauntlet of emotions swinging from confused terror to detachment and back to terror again. Little lights popped in front of his eye.  
  
His knuckles hurt.  
  
Now why did his knuckles hurt?  
  
Was someone talking? It was hard to tell. Was Gundham still laughing? Someone had dumped ice water over him. He was so cold he couldn't move.  
  
“FUYUHIKO, STOP IT! YOU HAVE TO STOP!”  
  
The voice broke through the fog clouding his mind as clear as daylight.  
  
The ringing subsided, just enough for him to realize the silence. There were arms wrapped around him. Devils, perhaps? But these arms were too solid to be anything but real, and he realized that there were several pairs. One was wrapped around his right shoulder, restraining his fist, which was still in the air. The others were around his waist and his other arm.  
  
And beneath him, smiling and bloody, was Gundham.  
  
_The motherfucker was still breathing._  
  
Fuyuhiko lurched forwards, but the arms tightened.  
  
“Stop it, Fuyuhiko!” a woman’s voice pleaded. “You’ll kill him! Please stop!”  
  
“I...don’t...care.”  
  
It took Fuyuhiko far too long to realize that the panting and hoarse voice belonged to him. The ground was shaking. Why was it shaking?  
  
It wasn’t the ground that was shaking.  
  
It was him.  
  
The arms pulled him off of Gundham. Suddenly, Fuyuhiko forgot how to coordinate the movement of his arms and legs. He was gently placed back onto the tile floor, far out of reach of the Ultimate Breeder.  
  
Fuyuhiko's nostrils flared. Smelt like sweat and spilled blood.  
  
Hajime, Sonia, and Kazuichi loomed over him, their faces flushed. Sonia knelt down.  
  
"Fuyuhiko?" she prompted.  
  
"Is he okay?" Kazuichi asked.  
  
"I am...not sure."  
  
Gundham finally managed to regain control of his laughter. "Burn, Kuzuryu! BURN IN THE FIRES OF PANDEMONIUM!"  
  
"Oh, shut up already!" Kazuichi shouted.  
  
"Wait your turn, Soda. I'll have you feeling despair yet!"  
  
"I swear to God—"  
  
"Kazuichi, please," Sonia said softly, reaching for his arm. "That will not help."  
  
"Tch, you're right," Fuyuhiko breathed. "Don't think anything's gonna help, at this point."  
  
Fuyuhiko stood up a little too quickly. The world swayed, but he willed his steps to be steady as he headed for the back door.  
  
"Where are you going?!" Hajime exclaimed.  
  
"Dunno," Fuyuhiko answered. "Doesn't matter."  
  
"You can't—"  
  
"FUCK OFF, HAJIME!" Fuyuhiko screamed.  
  
Fuyuhiko made his escape when Hajime's hand faltered. He unlocked the back door and rushed into the night.  
  
He was going to go for a walk. A long walk. Maybe he'd walk all the way through the ocean back to Japan. It didn't really matter. In the new world, there wasn't anywhere to walk to, because everything looked the same.

* * *

  **FAN ART FEATURE**

by [karbonatedsouda](http://karbonatedsouda.tumblr.com/post/145863192689/pet-him-gundham-ordered-wwhat)  
IT'S AMAZING.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!!!SPOILER WARNING!!!!!!!  
>  I'M GONNA BE DISCUSSING SPOILERS IN THIS NOTE.
> 
> Okay, first of all. The new anime.
> 
> ...OH MY GOD HINA, NOOOOOOOOOO.
> 
> HINA YOU WERE TOO PRECIOUS FOR THIS WORLD. THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I FEAAAAAARED! NOW THIS FIC HAS A WEIRD BITTERSWEET TONE! I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS! I WAS NOT EMOTIONALLY PREPARED!
> 
> In all seriousness though, the anime is ammaaaaazing. It's 100% better than I thought it would be, and I had high expectations to begin with. The fact that we get to see all our precious children animated is just...immensely satisfying. And Fuyuhiko's sister finally got a freaking NAME. It's about time!
> 
> I thought that the anime had the potential to put the breaks on this fic, but all it's doing is fuelling it. So much new material. In part, this is why I procrastinated writing this chapter, because I wanted to see if the anime was going to make or break it, and I have a weird desire to make this fic in line with canon as much as possible. Albeit, it's still early so the anime may yet poke some holes, but I'll be doing editing later to stamp out smaller details like that.
> 
> Also, I got fan art? For my fan fic? And this is like my dream or something??? Big hugs to KarbonatedSouda! By chance, if anyone else feels compelled to draw art, let me know! I MUST SEE IT! I'd also like to put fan art in this fic so I can show everybody, but of course I'd only ever do this with the artist's permission.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has supported this fic so far!


	5. Soul Friends and a Bottle of Liquid Byakuya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!SPOILER WARNING!!!!!
> 
> Story contains spoilers for Danganronpa 3: End of Hope's Peak Academy. You have been warned!

**PAST**

Blocks of sunlight levitated stray flecks of dust, catching the light just enough to glitter for them like stars. The rooms smelt of mahogany and melancholy, the courtyard trembled, warbling wind chimes sang, the fountain trickled, and yet none of it could mask the truth. Fuyuhiko leaned on his window sill, scanning the garden. None of the beauty could mask the echoes of the many people who had died in his home's corridors or the fact that this paradise was home to Japan's largest yakuza clan. There was no disguising the scars of bullet holes, no matter how much his father paid to conceal the damage, nor was their mistaking the sound of Peko training with her instructor from the adjoining dojo.  
  
Metal upon metal. There were no bamboo swords today.  
  
Fuyuhiko leaned back to escape the sunlight and lifted the Hope's Peak Academy brochure to examine its contents for the thousandth time. No amount of rereading could settle the anxious he concealed behind a facade of complete composure.  
  
It was a mask he'd spent fifteen years cultivating, and today it was going to put to its greatest test.  
  
Fuyuhiko roused from his thoughts at the sound of a nearby crash, followed by profuse swears.  
  
His parents had been fighting for over an hour. However, it only escalated at that moment, when the shouting turned into gunfire. It sounded like his mom had dug into her antique firearms collection, something she only did if she was especially pissed.  
  
"What the fuck is wrong with this family?" Fuyuhiko murmured.  
  
Fuyuhiko ripped the brochure in half and tossed it in the garbage bin on the way out of his room.  
  
He navigated the labyrinth of his home to the living room. It maintained the same controlled atmosphere of anywhere else in the house, but it was made worse by the presence of Natsumi lounging on the sofa. She was watching a talk show solely focused on discussing Hope's Peak.  
  
"You're just in time," Natsumi chimed. "They are just talking about who they think is going to be in the academy next school year."  
  
"Turn that garbage off," Fuyuhiko snarled.  
  
"Is that an order? Or are you actually nervous?"  
  
"I'm not nervous about anything. Turn that shit off before I fucking blow up the TV!"  
  
Natsumi snorted, but turned it off. "You're such a wimp!"  
  
"Okay, you are just asking me to try to kill you."  
  
"You don't have the guts to kill me, Fuyuhiko. Besides, you can't even reach my head—so how do you expect to chop it off?"  
  
Oh, he was not in the mood for this. They glowered at each other from across the room. From somewhere nearby, their parents' argument continued.  
  
"I AM _NOT_ PMS-ING!" screamed Mrs Kuzuryu. "I AM PERFECTLY CALM! THIS IS MY CALM VOICE!"  
  
"PUT THAT GUN DOWN, WOMAN!" Mr Kuzuryu hollered.  
  
More gunfire. The house trembled. Particles from the ceiling rained down on them.  
  
"What the hell are they fighting about?" Fuyuhiko asked Natsumi, determined to deflect the topic before he lost his cool.  
  
Natsumi laughed. She had a melodious laugh like wind chimes on a morning breeze. "They're fighting over how big of a disappointment you are, of course. Mom says a lot. Dad says there's no limit.”  
  
"Huh. And here I was thinking that Hope's Peak rejected you."  
  
"No way that could happen! Our letters arrived this morning. I expect Mom and Dad will congratulate us after they're done with this little spat."  
  
"You'd think they'd be happy about it..."  
  
"You know them! Any reason to fight is a good one." Natsumi flashed duplicitous smile. A perfect look for a yakuza princess. "Might want to watch your back when we get to Hope's Peak, Fuyuhiko. As the Ultimate Little Sister, I'm gonna be close enough for the kill so I can take over the clan."  
  
"I'd like to see you try it."  
  
Her hands remained clasped in front of her and there was no sign of a weapon on her. The only weapon Natsumi Kuzuryu had was her charm.  
  
It was not two heartbeats later that one of Mr Kuzuryu's bodyguards stumbled into the living room. His hair and tie were askew, but there wasn't any visible blood—so it was a significant improvement. Fuyuhiko only realized in that moment that the sound of his parents' brawl had died down.  
  
"Y—Your parents would like to speak to you b—both,” the bodyguard stammered.  
  
He collapsed to the floor in a sweaty heap.  
  
"Finally," Natsumi scowled. "Shall we, my brother?"  
  
Fuyuhiko scowled back. "After you."  
  
“Naturally."  
  
Natsumi stepped on the bodyguard on her way out. Fuyuhiko glared at the back of her head; at least he had the courtesy to go around his father's unconscious underling.  
  
Still, the atmosphere of the Kuzuryu house shifted as they approached the office. A spotless, friendly living space metamorphosed into a museum representing archaic traditions. Their father's office was just off of the living room, down a corridor baring the scars of the recent fight. Fresh wounds left by bullets, a pair of discarded katanas, and knocked over furniture were just the preliminary signs of the conflict. Most notable was a pungent smell of sweat and freshly discharged gunfire. It was familiar to Fuyuhiko. It caused his flesh to prickle with unease.  
  
The first clue that something was amiss was when they turned the corner and came to the double mahogany doors that led into their father's office. Standing just outside was Peko. She was wearing the robe she typically reserved for training or her early-morning meditations and her sword—as always—was propped against the side of the door. She would not be permitted to bring it into the office.  
  
"What're you doing here?" Natsumi asked accusingly. "This is a family meeting, y'know!"  
  
"Master Kuzuryu asked me to come," Peko answered.  
  
"What for?" Fuyuhiko questioned.  
  
"I am not sure. I was asked to come here, so I did."  
  
Well, that didn't make him feel at ease. He shared a silent glance with his sister. By the looks of it, neither of them liked where this was going. Fuyuhiko swallowed the bubble of bile rising in the back of his throat and led the way into the office.  
  
Even to their children, Mr and Mrs Kuzuryu boasted an impressive presence. Mrs Kuzuryu was the spitting image of her daughter. Not a hair or drop of makeup was out of place, her red dress was unwrinkled, and her long fingers twirled her cigarette holder. She was a confident woman. A catty woman. And a woman who Fuyuhiko had never seen before with that kind of intense frown. Mr Kuzuryu had a taut and stern face drawn as tight as a bowstring, and if his face was a bowstring, then his eyes were the arrows, and those eyes glared all three of them down.  
  
At once, the impression that something was amiss became a certainty. Fuyuhiko looked at his mother. Then his father. Back again. Between the two of them, he could've been a soldier being inspected by two hard-nosed general. Not too far from the truth, actually.  
  
"Close the door, Peko," Mrs Kuzuryu ordered.  
  
Crap.  
  
As Peko closed the door, the elevator Fuyuhiko's anxiety was riding on just went into a free fall. So much for an easy escape route if his parents decided to involve their kids in their fight; it wouldn't the first time. Mr Kuzuryu kept a apoplectic focus on the three of them, not speaking until Peko was back in her spot.  
  
"Never before," Mr Kuzuryu whispered. Then, louder: "Never before have I been so disappointed."  
  
Well, that was a promising sign. Fuyuhiko bite his tongue, but couldn't quite contain his freefalling-anxiety-elevator.  
  
"The letters from Hope's Peak Academy arrived this morning and, quite frankly, I am disgusted by their contents," Mr Kuzuryu hissed. "Fuyuhiko, you gave been invited to attend Hope's Peak as the Ultimate Yakuza. You will be part of the 77th class in the upcoming school year."  
  
"How is that disappointing?" Fuyuhiko challenged. So much for restraint. "That's exactly what you wanted!"  
  
"Do. Not. Speak."  
  
Easy enough. Fuyuhiko felt like his tongue had suddenly swollen to ten times its size.  
  
"What's disappointing is your inability to exercise restraint," Mr Kuzuryu continued. "What's disappointing is your lack of respect for the traditions of this clan. What's disappointing is that you do not know your place. What's disappointing...is you."  
  
It wasn't the first time Fuyuhiko had been given the you're-a-disappointment-to-the-family speech, but never before had it been said with such malice. He could practically see the poison spilling from his father's mouth and flooding the room. Drowning him.  
  
Still, as always, his composure won over his apprehension.  
  
"This crap again?" Fuyuhiko scoffed. "How about you talk straight for once and tell me what this is really about?"  
  
"Ugh, as always, you'd rather be dramatic then get to the point, dear," Mrs Kuzuryu scolded her husband. "I'll break the news, then. Two letters arrived this morning. One was for Fuyuhiko, as the Ultimate Yakuza, and the other was for Peko...as the Ultimate Swordswoman.”  
  
The anxiety elevator hit the bottom of the shaft and exploded into flames. During the pause that followed the revelation, nobody moved or spoke, but they may as well have been in the middle of warzone. It was Natsumi who recovered first.  
  
"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!" Natsumi screamed. "Is this for fucking real?! After all the shit I went through to get recognition from the academy, they fucking took _the help_ over me?!"  
  
"Huh, and here I was thinking I would have to explain it in detail," Mrs Kuzuryu drawled.  
  
"THIS IS BULLSHIT! I'M THE ULTIMATE LITTLE SISTER!"  
  
"And had you been born before your brother, you would have been the heir and the Ultimate Yakuza, Natsumi."  
  
"But as it happens, Koichi Kizakura has refused to cooperate," said Mr Kuzuryu.  
  
"You mean he didn't take the bribe you offered," Fuyuhiko guessed.  
  
"I mean that I tried to persuade him to rescind Peko's invitation. He has refused."  
  
"So have him killed!" Natsumi shouted.  
  
"I can't have him killed, Natsumi," Mr Kuzuryu cooed. "Kizakura may not be a member of a rival clan, but he is allied with some of Japan's most powerful men and women. The academy wouldn't idly stand by if their best scout was killed. Part of being the head of this family is knowing when to pick your battles, and unfortunately this is one that would have severe consequences."  
  
"So just what the hell are you going to do about this?!"  
  
"Simple. Peko won't attend Hope's Peak. Once the offer is refused, a space will be open in that year—and once I speak with the school's faculty, that spot will belong to you. They typically bow to the scout's decision, but I'm sure I'll be able to persuade them to reevaluate—"  
  
Fuyuhiko found his voice before he found his senses. "That's not gonna happen."  
  
Fuyuhiko didn't know if it was just saying the words or understanding the meaning behind them, but suddenly he realized that they were words he was going to live by. He was struck by a flurry of emotions that surprised him. Overwhelming resolve. Rebellion against his father. Loyalty to Peko.  
  
Peko could never talk back to Mr Kuzuryu.  
  
But he could.  
  
"Peko's going to Hope's Peak," Fuyuhiko asserted. "She's going to attend the school and she's going to fucking graduate."  
  
"Peko is a tool," Mr Kuzuryu said dismissively. "In order for her to graduate, she'd have to be a human."  
  
"I'm not here to debate her sentience!" Fuyuhiko yelled.  
  
"Peko's a possession, not a person," Natsumi snarled.  
  
"Look, Natsumi, I'm sorry you didn't get into Hope's Peak—for the most part," said Fuyuhiko. "But Peko's future is more important than yours."  
  
Natsumi shifted, like an angry bird rustling her feathers. Even had the claws to match. "How...how dare you..."  
  
"You and me—we're set for life!" Fuyuhiko argued. "You and I are basically gonna run the clan together, but Peko needs Hope's Peak way more than we do!"  
  
"Peko doesn't fucking think! She's just a thing! If you say she's gonna go to the academy, that's just you saying she's going! It’s just an order you're giving!"  
  
Ugh, she just had to point that out. As much as Fuyuhiko didn't want her to have a point, the fact was that she did and it was a valid one. He rounded on Peko, who had fallen silent. She had a glazed look reminiscent of the thousand-yard stare.  
  
"Peko," he prompted. "Do you want to attend Hope's Peak?"  
  
She blinked. Roused herself. "I...was going anyways, as your guard."  
  
"No—no—no—not like that. Do you want to go as a student, even if I wasn't?"  
  
"...Do you wish me to, Young Master?"  
  
"See?" said Natsumi. "She doesn't think. She's just a parrot."  
  
"She is not!" Fuyuhiko snapped. "If you're so set on Peko not going, then...then I won't go. Natsumi can take my spot at Hope's Peak and Peko can go, as well."  
  
"That is not acceptable!" Mr Kuzuryu shouted. His chair clattered to the floor as he stood. "Natsumi is not the heir to this clan—you are! I was the Ultimate Yakuza at Hope’s Peak before you and I expect my son to follow in my footsteps!”  
  
"What the hell does it matter?!" Fuyuhiko raged. "You want Natsumi to lead the family anyways, not me!"  
  
"What I want is irrelevant! Our traditions say that the firstborn is the heir!”  
  
"Oh, why am I not surprised?!" Fuyuhiko exploded. "What's more important to you?! The clan’s traditions or your kids?! Some father you are!”  
  
Fuyuhiko felt as though he had been submerged in icy water, and the sensation deepened as Mr Kuzuryu rose to his feet, rounded the desk, and advanced. Fuyuhiko stood as tall as he was able to, not breaking eye contact. His father loomed over him—poised like a cobra.  
  
He knew the slap was coming before Mr Kuzuryu even raised his hand, but that didn't make it sting any less. Fuyuhiko stumbled at the first strike and instinctively backed away. A large hand seized his shoulder and kept him still. The lightning-fast movement of his father's arm made it difficult to gauge how many times he was slapped. All Fuyuhiko knew was that Mr Kuzuryu's hand was harder than a whip, and as practised at striking him as his father was at alienating his children. What Mr Kuzuryu didn't say with words, he said through sheer force—like he did now.  
  
It was the only way Mr Kuzuryu had ever spoken to Fuyuhiko and his sister.  
  
When he was done, Mr Kuzuryu returned to his desk and Fuyuhiko fell back in line with Peko and Natsumi. His face prickled with pain, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.  
  
Not even the worse damage his father had done. Emotionally, Fuyuhiko was the uncared for aftermath of an F-5 tornado.  
  
"I hope you had a fucking reason for that," Fuyuhiko said evenly. Funny how he managed to sound so confident when his insides felt like molten lava.  
  
"I expected better of my son," Mr Kuzuryu asserted. "Natsumi knows her place. You have yet to learn it. Now...order Peko to refuse the invitation to Hope's Peak Academy."  
  
"Not gonna happen. It's not your decision and it as sure as hell isn't Natsumi's—it's Peko's. I'm only speaking on her behalf because I know she wouldn't dare talk back to you."  
  
"And you do, of course...Very well...I will me lenient this one time. I will give you until tomorrow to give the order. If you do not, then there will be consequences."  
  
"You don't have to wait until tomorrow! I don't think that—"  
  
"Fuyuhiko, that's enough," Mrs Kuzuryu hissed.  
  
"You've been disrespectful enough for one day," said Mr Kuzuryu. "You have until tomorrow. Is that understood?"  
  
The totality of his father's word hit him. Mr Kuzuryu annihilated his willpower in a single blow.  
  
"Fuyuhiko?" Mr Kuzuryu prompted.  
  
"...Yes, sir," Fuyuhiko conceded.  
  
"Then we understand each other. The three of you may leave."  
  
Fuyuhiko rounded on his heel and slammed his shoulder a little too hard into Natsumi on his way out. What he needed was distance and to find a large body of water to drown his father in.

* * *

 

Fuyuhiko snapped awake at around midnight with cold sweat coating the back of his neck. He was sure that he'd awoken from a nightmare, but couldn't remember it for the life of him—which may have been a good thing. However, there was another presence, a presence far greater than that of his father. It was fear, and fear wasn't welcome in his book. He turned over and pulled the sheets over his head.  
  
Sleep didn't return to him. Fuyuhiko wondered how he'd fallen asleep in the first place—why he hadn't spent his whole life pacing in the earliest hours of the morning. Perhaps what he needed was a change of environment, maybe a long walk in the moonlight.  
  
Fuyuhiko acted on the impulsive thought, climbed out of bed, hurried to the door, and slid it open.  
  
He immediately tripped on a human figure sitting on the other side.  
  
"Shit!" Fuyuhiko hissed. Peko was barely distinguishable in the faint moonlight. "Peko! What the hell are you doing?!"  
  
"Watching for assassins," Peko answered.  
  
"You mean Natsumi? Will you get real?! Natsumi doesn't have the guts to try to kill me!"  
  
"It is not Miss Natsumi that I am looking out for."  
  
The anxiety elevator was back. This time it was dangling by a single cable.  
  
"Dad wouldn't have my killed," Fuyuhiko asserted. "He's a traditionalist and I'm the oldest."  
  
"Maybe so," Peko admitted. "I do not care to speak ill of Mr Kuzuryu, the possibility remains that he would prefer to force Natsumi into the position of heir, even if it means violating tradition. You would not be the first member of the family he has killed for what he believes to be the benefit of the clan. However, I have sworn to protect you. He will have to go through me, first."  
  
"Hmph."  
  
"Rest assured that I will protect you, Young Master."  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"  
  
He slid onto the ground beside her and folded his arms, back pressed against the door. There was comfort in the darkness of the hall. No need to hide behind a mask.  
  
“Fuyuhiko,” she said.  
  
Fuyuhiko looked at her. Her red eyes jumped out in the shadows.  
  
“Are you angry with me?” Peko asked.  
  
"Of course not," he replied. "I just...I just wish you could see yourself the way Natsumi and I see you."  
  
"Perhaps. All the same, I feel I have failed you."  
  
"You could never do that. Just...be totally honest with me, Peko. If you got the chance, would you want to attend Hope's Peak Academy as a student?"  
  
Peko's lack of response told him all he needed to know. Her loyalty to the Kuzuryu name forbade her from expressing anything save for compliance. Any other emotion was nothing short of heresy, and Fuyuhiko hated it. Hope's Peak had been the one place—the only place he could think of—where they could be equals, and the possibility of both of them being able to go had been blown away, like leaves on the wind.  
  
"Well, well, well! Look at the lovebirds!"  
  
Fuyuhiko groaned. Poking her head out of her bedroom door down the hall was Natsumi. She surveyed the two of them with interest and intent.  
  
"Fuck off, Natsumi," Fuyuhiko snapped.  
  
"For shame, Fuyuhiko! Is that the kind of language you want to use around your baby sister?"  
  
"You're my twin sister. My _younger twin_ sister. Hardly my baby sister, especially since that would imply that you're innocent."  
  
"Details, details!" Natsumi waved her hand absently. "If you're done with your not-so-private chat, the three of us can have a little talk."  
  
"No."  
  
"You're quick to shoot that down. What, are you afraid of your baby sister?"  
  
"Younger sister."  
  
“Again with the details! Are we gonna talk or not?"  
  
"Not interested."  
  
Natsumi huffed. "Fine, then you can deal with Dad on your own in the morning. Here I was trying to be a good sister, and what thanks do I get?!"  
  
Fuyuhiko groaned and rammed the back of his head against the door. Before he could form a further protest, Natsumi squeezed between Peko and Fuyuhiko and draped her arms around their shoulders. It was hard not to miss the excited energy about her—though underneath there was something more sinister. An air of self-importance.  
  
"Let's get straight to business," said Natsumi. "Neither of you deserve Hope's Peak. If anyone's going, we all know it should be me, so that Kizakura jackass has to be insane to want you over me."  
  
"Get to the point," Fuyuhiko growled.  
  
"I am getting to the point, dumbass. The point is that I don't need your pity. You two got into Hope's Peak and I didn't. So what? If they don't want me, then I'm gonna make them come crawling to me, begging for forgiveness. The story of how I wormed my way into Hope's Peak and became the Ultimate Little Sister will become legendary."  
  
Fuyuhiko blinked. "Are you...are you saying what I think you're saying?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm saying that I'm amazing and I'm better than you," Natsumi affirmed. "And I'm saying that I'm gonna talk to Dad in the morning and tell him to mind his own fucking business. Peko was going to follow you to Hope's Peak as your bodyguard anyways, so why not let her be a student? I can get into the academy without having to pull the pity card—so don't you dare try to thank me! I'm not doing this for either of you!"  
  
Fuyuhiko caught Peko’s expression from across his sister. She was wide-eyed and stunned and...happy. But a sad-happy, the sort of bittersweet happiness Fuyuhiko felt whenever he was near her.  
  
“…Thank you, Miss Natsumi,” Peko whispered.  
  
“I said don’t fucking thank me!” Natsumi barked. “You better make use of Hope’s Peak while you can, Peko, because the moment I get there, I’m gonna wipe you two out.”  
  
“…All the same…thank you, Miss Natsumi.”  
  
Natsumi folded her arms and clenched her expression. The facade of annoyance she put on didn’t conceal the red flush creeping up her face.  
  
"Are you doing this for Peko or for me?" Fuyuhiko asked tentatively.  
  
"I wouldn't waste my time on you, asshole," Natsumi replied. "Peko's like the sister you couldn't be."  
  
"...It should've been you. Why wasn't it you?"  
  
"Now what are you rambling about?"  
  
"You should've been the Ultimate Yakuza," said Fuyuhiko. For the first time, he dared to look her in the eyes, and he thought he could see past the shield his sister used to protect herself. "If...if you'd just been born first, then..."  
  
"Shut up. I've been reminded my whole life that you're the heir and I'm the spare. Even if I was born first, then you'd miss out on the privilege of having me as a little sister."  
  
"A faction in the clan wants you to lead. If you just—"  
  
“I don’t want to lead the clan.”  
  
Funny how a single sentence suddenly crumbled his preconceptions, destroying everything he thought he knew about his sister in a final blow. His sister was an earthquake—and she had just crumbled his foundation. Her face was perfectly even at that moment, composed and poised just like the yakuza royalty she was.  
  
“I never did, stupid,” Natsumi emphasized. “If you’d opened your eyes and bothered to ask me if I wanted to lead, you’d know that already.”  
  
He couldn’t muster a response. Instead, he sat there, slack-jawed and fully aware that he was staring for far too long. Natsumi glanced at him at the side, then finally turned, her voice swinging from harsh to soft and gentle.  
  
“Stop looking at me like that,” Natsumi lightly intoned. “Read my lips! I don’t want to lead the clan. The reason I’m so amazing is because I’m your sister.”  
  
Fuyuhiko gawked at her, then relaxed and slumped against the wall.  
  
"So like I said," Natsumi smirked at the two of them. "You two ought to watch your backs, because once I become the Ultimate Little Sister...I'm gonna kick your asses."

* * *

 

**PRESENT**

Fuyuhiko wrapped his jacket firmly around his body, as tight as he could without suffocating himself. Not that he wasn’t trying.  
  
The streets of the settlement were dotted with locals going about their business as best they could given the circumstances, heads low and faces just indistinguishable shadows. He couldn't bring himself to look at them. He had ruined their lives. He had been part of a gang of angst-ridden teenagers who'd obliterated the world in terrifying fashion. This was his doing. His fingerprints were everywhere. The whole world was a crime scene and he was the one doing the investigating.  
  
How could he bare to even live among his own victims?  
  
The more he mulled over Gundham's words, he more enveloped became in the Ultimate's Breeder's declarations of loyalty to Junko. There had been defiance and pride in Gundham's glinting eyes.  
  
How could anyone feel any sort of pride when one associated with Junko Enoshima? Then again, Fuyuhiko had her eye. Had he been proud of it? Had he flaunted it? Had he declared that he could see her despair—that he could see the world through her eyes? Had he hoped to reach her level of transcendence?  
  
It was those racing thoughts that motivated him to search for something that would numb his senses. An ill-advised self-meditation that would destroy his awareness. Even if it only lasted for a few hours, it would be a few hours free of being a Remnant.  
  
Fuyuhiko stopped outside of a dilapidated building he'd passed a few times since their arrival on Jabberwock Island. It was a run-down shack, the wood grimy, the porch rotted, the defeat written all over the place. Nevertheless, bars of light streamed out from its windows and created a patchwork on the road. In the window was a neon light that read 'Open' and another that depicted an image of a margarita. Could anyone even make margaritas anymore? All the same, the temptation lured him to the front door, and there was a distinctive chime of a bell as he entered.  
  
Fuyuhiko's senses were beseiged with the reek of dry vomit and rotted food. It was the most pathetic bar he'd ever seen. At first glance, it looked as though it had been a family-run diner, but that was a memory now—as was everything else in the new world. The place had been repurposed to help parents forget that their children were dead or vice versa. There were a few patrons scattered around, but they were quiet. The only noise came from an old radio blaring out some irritating pop song as sung by Sayaka Maizono and her ridiculous pop band.  
  
He'd never liked her music.  
  
Fuyuhiko approached the counter, where the bartender was just rousing himself form a nap. He certainly looked like he'd had a few drinks, himself.  
  
“Hey, do you actually have drinks here or is the sign for show?” Fuyuhiko demanded.  
  
The bartender gave a vague nod that Fuyuhiko chose to interpret as an affirmative for drinks. He took a seat at the bar and waved some yen in the bartender’s face.  
  
“Do people still use this shit or is the world not good enough for that, either?” Fuyuhiko asked.  
  
“We do here,” the bartender nodded.  
  
“Good. Then I’ll take the best poison you have.”  
  
However intoxicated he appeared, the bartender's eyes still bulged out of his head as Fuyuhiko emptied his pockets on the counter. He didn't bother to count the yen. The last thing Fuyuhiko wanted was to think about where the money had come from, though if he was going to be rid of it, he may as well put it towards something that would shorten his life.  
  
“Er, I think I still have some vodka somewhere,” the bartender murmured. “Hey—wait a minute. Just how old are you?”  
  
Fuyuhiko lurched forwards and grabbed the front of the bartender's shirt. "Is that a crack about my height?! Because you really want to chose your next words wisely!"  
  
“N—No!”  
  
“So what if I’m short?! You got a problem with it?! Now get me a drink before I break a fucking bottle and gorge out your throat!"  
  
“Easy, buddy. You’re not even drunk yet.”  
  
Fuyuhiko realized he was holding onto the man’s shirt a little too tightly. He released him. Hold habits died hard.  
  
The bartender was quick to get him vodka. It was a pristine, shiny bottle with the label 'TOGAMI VODKA' written in golden cursive.  
  
Of course the Togamis had their own vodka. Fucking fabulous.  
  
Fuyuhiko waved off the glass the bartender tried to pass him and grabbed the neck of the bottle. He couldn't believe he was doing this. But since he'd come this far, might as well go the whole nine yards. He lit a cigarette and let the poison fill his lungs, hoping that the fire would burn every cell. It was like a manifestation of the self-destructive thoughts oozing through his head. A slow-moving avalanche that just kept getting more and more out of control.  
  
Cigarettes and alcohol. It would knock a few years off of his life.  
  
Good. He wouldn't have to endure the world for so long. The world wouldn't't have to endure a Remnant. Win-win scenario. Everyone would be happy.  
  
Fuyuhiko examined the bottle, like it had some unscrupulous motivations he would be able to figure out just by staring at it. While he didn't remember ever drinking before, that didn't include the years of lost memories.  
  
He would count this as his first, then. Fuyuhiko pressed the rim of the bottle against his lips. Indecision. Then, commitment. He shifted the weight of his bottle and thrust his head back, letting the liquid slide into his throat.  
  
It wasn't quite as nasty as he expected, which suggested to him that he had, indeed, tried alcohol during his memory lapse. Instead of a rancid, overpowering taste, the vodka was buttery and smooth—much milder than he expected and completely odourless. It tasted like liquid Byakuya. The real one, not the Imposter.  
  
Fuyuhiko set the bottle down and let the vodka settle in his stomach. It must've been nice being the Ultimate Imposter. They could change their identity on a whim. Become anything. Become anyone. Fuyuhiko had to settle on just being Fuyuhiko.  
  
The angst train docked at his station and blew its horn much too loudly. Fuyuhiko responded by taking another drink.  
  
The radio was still playing in the background. Sayaka Maizono's song had ended a while ago and was replaced by a forlorn ballad. Fuyuhiko was fairly good at English; foreign languages had been something of a necessity when part of the yakuza. So he flinched as the English singer lilted. _How come the sun don't shine on me anymore._  
  
"Ugh," Fuyuhiko groaned. He lacked the energy to get up, grab the radio, and throw it out the window. He slammed his head against the counter.  
  
"Want a coaster for that?" the bartender asked.  
  
"Fuck off," Fuyuhiko responded.  
  
Fuyuhiko snapped back to attention as the door chimed. He didn't have to look up to recognize the footsteps.  
  
Hina appeared at his shoulder. She was frazzled—hair askew, lines of stress encroaching on her usual cheerfulness. Glancing around, she leaned in and spoke to him in a hushed tone.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she seethed.  
  
"Fuck off, Asahina," Fuyuhiko groused.  
  
"You need to come home right now."  
  
"I don't have a home. Fuck off."  
  
She fumed as he took another drink. He could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears.  
  
"You shouldn't be drinking," she said.  
  
"So stop me," Fuyuhiko challenged.  
  
"I'm hoping you'll have the sense to stop on your own."  
  
"Well, aren't you a little bundle of optimism. Take my advice and fuck off, already."  
  
Asahina reached for the bottle. Fuyuhiko was faster, and seized her wrist—their eyes locked in an emotional tug-of-war with no definitive winner. The bartender ambled over.  
  
"Hey, don't hassle my customers!" the bartender barked at Hina. "If the guy wants to drink, let him!"  
  
"Couldn't you cut him off for me?" Hina asked.  
  
"Only if you have more money than he does."  
  
Fuyuhiko tipped the bottle to Hina, smirking.  
  
"This isn't over," she hissed.  
  
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the bar. She'd be back, but at least he'd have a few more minutes of the delusion of peace.

* * *

 

By the time Sonia made her appearance, Fuyuhiko was beginning to feel the pinch of alcohol. He would have never guessed that he'd get drunk so easily, but there he was—with his hands tingling and his mind buzzing and everything slightly more amusing than it actually was.  
  
It was a daydream he was comfortable with, right up until the door creaked open and he caught a whiff of flower-scented perfume that didn't match the decor.  
  
Sonia looked thoroughly out-of-place as she approached the bar. Her appearance did earn her a wolf whistle from one or two patrons, but she plastered a too-tight smile on her face. She slid onto the stool next to Fuyuhiko. The moment no one was looking, the smile slipped and she clutched Fuyuhiko's arm.  
  
"Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, just what do you think you're doing?" she asked quietly.  
  
"By the looks of it, I'm getting as drunk as I can," Fuyuhiko answered.  
  
"I can see that, but I do not understand why. You must return at once. I cannot believe you attacked Gundham like that!"  
  
"Attacked him? The guy probably deserves a lot worse than a few bruises, believe me."  
  
"You broke his eye socket!"  
  
"Did I? I hope I liquefied his brain.”  
  
"If you had, I would not be speaking to you. Fuyuhiko, do you believe that drinking will help matters?"  
  
“Nope."  
  
"Then _why?_ Why are you doing this?!"  
  
"Because...I want to be the Ultimate Homeroom Teacher."  
  
"I...what?!"  
  
"I've decided to change talents. What good is a yakuza around here, anyways? I want to be the Ultimate Homeroom Teacher—like Kizakura! Do you remember him yet? He was always as drunk as a skunk. I've decided—I've decided I want to be...just like him."  
  
Sonia blinked. Recomposed herself. "Fuyuhiko, you are behaving most unusually. I demand that you stop it at once and return home with me."  
  
"Did Ass-hina send you?"  
  
“...Pardon me, but I believe her family name is Asa-hina. And yes, she did send me."  
  
"Dunno. She acts like an ass, always bossing me around. I'm renaming her to Ass-hina. Hey, you’re royalty! You can make it official!"  
  
"I do not wish to do so."  
  
"Then what's the fun of you being a princess?…But I guess you are just a puppet ruler. I better not expect too much out of you."  
  
Fuck. Now why the hell had he said that? He tore his gaze away from his drink and settled it on Sonia. Everything that inspired dread and unease in him competed for attention on her face—from distress to depression to despair. The alcohol didn't numb his emotions enough to prevent regret from bleeding all through his body.  
  
He had done that. He had put that hurt on her face.  
  
He'd have to get rid of her before he could make it worse.  
  
"This is the part where you leave," Fuyuhiko said.  
  
Sonia hesitated a second longer, then mercifully took her leave.

* * *

 

“What the fuck is your problem?!”  
  
Fuyuhiko snorted awake. When had he dozed off?  
  
He couldn't have been asleep for long, because the bartender hadn't put a coaster under his elbows and his cigarette hadn't burnt itself to a stub. Also, the same song was playing, now reaching its conclusion as the singer poured his sorrows into the final note. When he raised his head, his first instinct was to take another drink. After he did that, he tried to focus through the haze of alcohol to figure out who was talking.  
  
Bartender? No. Bartender was looking at him funny.  
  
A patron? No. The crowd had whittled down and those who were left looked too drunk to speak.  
  
"I'm over here, asshole!"  
  
Fuyuhiko turned in the other direction. He got an eye-full of blazing pink matched with the most nauseating orange he'd ever seen.  
  
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Fuyuhiko grimaced, shielding his eye. "You have no business walking into a bar wearing those colours!"  
  
Kazuichi shoved Fuyuhiko's shoulder. He barely managed to stay upright on the stool.  
  
"You think this is funny or something?" Kazuichi demanded. "Where the hell do you get off treating Sonia like that?!"  
  
"What's the big deal?" Fuyuhiko moaned. "I thought you were done slobbering over her."  
  
"I—I am!" Kazuichi affirmed. "I—I just...I just don't want to see her hurt, and— _fuck, man!_ Don't make this more complicated than it already is! This isn't about me and Sonia!"  
  
"Hey, Queen Sonia needed a reality check and I gave it to her."  
  
"Sonia's not a queen; she's a princess."  
  
"Right." Fuyuhiko wasn't about to correct anyone on that detail. "So, you here to drag me back? Did Ass-hina send you, too? Because I'm not going back. In fact, I'm never going back. I'm gonna stay here and make my own country or something. All I need is a name, a national anthem, and a flag!"  
  
"...You're drunk."  
  
“No fucking shit! I would have never figured that out of my own. Care to join me?"

"W—What? No!"  
  
"C'mon, are you really going to do what Hina tells you to do all the time?"  
  
"But Hina—"  
  
"Hina's a bitch! She doesn't belong here, so I'm forgetting she exists, and you should too!"  
  
"You're—You're saying some weird stuff, Fuyuhiko. Can we just go home already?"  
  
"I bet if you drink with me, I'll start making sense."  
  
"How will me drinking make you make more sense?"  
  
"Because we'll be speaking the same language. The language of alcohol is universal, you know."  
  
"I dunno..."  
  
"Do you really want to be sober for the rest of our shitty lives?”  
  
“Well, no, but…”  
  
“You do realize that Gundham’s pretty much going to be our roommate, right?”  
  
That was what sent Kazuichi over the edge. His eyes widened and his resolve crumbled with it. After a final second of indecision, Kazuichi seized the bottle and took a swig.

* * *

 

Fuyuhiko couldn't remember enjoying Kazuichi's company this much before. A good hour into their guy's night out, and they were acting like best friends. Albeit, it was probably the liquor talking—and Kazuichi certainly wasn't capable of holding it in. Soon, the two of them were laughing at things that weren't remotely funny—such as Fuyuhiko's eye patch. Soon, even Fuyuhiko saw the humour in it and even let Kazuichi try it on.  
  
Of course, it was only after he removed it that he remembered why he was so determined to keep it on in the first place But it was too late, and when Kazuichi asked about his eye, Fuyuhiko found it much easier to tell him than it should have been.  
  
"So you have Junko's eyeball?" Kazuichi slurred, securing the patch directly on his forehead. "That's messed up."  
  
"No shit," Fuyuhiko agreed. "It's like a got a piece of her following me around for the rest of my life."  
  
"Couldn't you just take it out?"  
  
"They wanted to do that back at the clinic, but I didn't let them."  
  
Kazuichi went in and out of focus. "Why not?"  
  
"Look—maybe the Future Foundation will never catch us, maybe we'll never face justice for what we've done...but at least I have this one small reminder. It's my punishment for everything that's happened."  
  
"Now if having Junko's eye is messed up, then you thinking like that is definitely...messed up. I dunno. My brain's foggy."  
  
"It's the vodka. Take another shot."  
  
Kazuichi did so. "Y'know, this shit isn't too bad."  
  
"It's Togami. Everything he touches turns to gold."  
  
"Heh, I'm sure he likes to believe that. Guy's an asshole."  
  
"Biggest asshole of them all. My family had a few dealings with Togamis, y'know. I think—I think I might've met Byakuya when we were kids at one of those rich people parties where everyone pretends to like each other."  
  
"Sounds boring."  
  
"I dunno, maybe it wasn't him—maybe it was the Imposter or something.” Fuyuhiko fumbled with his thoughts as a few stray memories rolled through his mind. "My dad shot someone at that party."  
  
"Did he always shoot people at social events?" Kazuichi asked.  
  
"Sometimes. My dad was a piece of shit."  
  
"I imagine any yakuza crime boss would be."  
  
"We have more in common than you think, y'know."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Dad used to hit me and my sister whenever we fucked up, y'know?" Fuyuhiko remembered, voice warbling. "He never drank when he did it, though. He once said that he liked to be in the right mindset. What kind of shitty dad wants to be 'in the right mindset' to hit their kid?!"  
  
Fuyuhiko's incoherent thoughts turned coherent for a heartbeat. Kazuichi’s full attention was trained on him and it was hard to ignore it.  
  
"I've never told anyone that before," Fuyuhiko murmured. He took another drink. "You might not remember any of this in the morning, but I'd appreciate it if you kept quiet about my eye and my dad. I don't want my shit in the open."  
  
"Sure, sure, I swear it on my life! You can be my other Soul Friend! Then I'm sworn to secrecy!"  
  
"Soul Friend? I’ve heard you call Hajime that. What does that even mean?"  
  
"It's like Blood Brothers, but closer. Cos, I mean...with Blood Brothers, you only have blood. Physical shit. But Soul Friends are bonded in spirit! How about it? You want to be my Soul Friend?"  
  
He could do worse. "Eh, what the hell. But we gotta make it official.”  
  
Fuyuhiko snapped his fingers to get the bartender's attention.  
  
"Hey, get us some clean glasses or something!" he ordered.  
  
"W—What're you doing?" Kazuichi asked. "You're not gonna poison me, are you?"  
  
"Of course not! If I was gonna poison you, I'd be way less obvious."  
  
The wine glasses arrived. They weren't absolutely spotless, but given the circumstances Fuyuhiko wasn't in the mood to be picky. He poured vodka in each glass.  
  
"This is a Brotherhood Cup," said Fuyuhiko. "It's a promise to watch each other's back. From this day forwards, you, me, and Hajime—we're brothers. Or—Soul Friends or whatever term you want to use. Now drink!”  
  
They downed their glasses in one gulp and afterwards Fuyuhiko smashed his glass on the floor. That got him an ear-full from the bartender, but Kazuichi found it amusing—and even followed his lead.  
  
Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi were still cheering over their broken glasses when the door burst open for the third time. It was Akane, her presence dominating all the others. All the men in the bar leered after her as she made a beeline towards them.  
  
"Hi, Akane!" Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi waved simultaneously.  
  
"Dude, what the hell?!" Akane shouted. "You could'a at least invited me!"  
  
"Didn't know you were interested," Fuyuhiko slurred. "You can be our other Soul Friend!"  
  
"Oh, oh!" Kazuichi jumped up and down on his seat like a kid in a candy store. "That's a great idea! We're gonna need more glasses!"  
  
"Goddammit, Kazuichi," Akane groaned. "You were supposed to bring Fuyuhiko back—not join him! Hina's gonna kill you!"  
  
"Oh, who cares what Ass-hina thinks?” Fuyuhiko barked. "I'm getting sick of hearing her name…"  
  
A vein protruded in Akane's forehead. She grabbed Kazuichi around the waist and threw him over her shoulder.  
  
"Come on, we're going home!" she declared.  
  
"I like how everyone is calling the halfway house a home," Fuyuhiko grumbled.  
  
He could feel it, now. A rising heat boiling in his belly and prickling through his limbs. The joy of drunkenness shifted to rage in a heartbeat. A four-alarm fire sounded in his head and there weren't any firefighters nearby to put it out.  
  
"Our real home is a heaping, smoking, despair-filled wreck," Fuyuhiko said. "Not the halfway house."  
  
"I wasn't asking," Akane snapped. "Get your rear in gear before you ended up like Kazuichi here."  
  
"Or what? You'll put me in another time-out?"  
  
"I'm thinkin' about it..."  
  
The sudden urge to be cruel swept through him. He dropped his voice to a hiss.  
  
"If you don't leave me alone, I'll tell you what you did to your brothers and sisters," he warned.  
  
Akane Owari was not a shrewd person. She was all heart and no brain. But she wasn't an idiot when it came to the people around her. She released his arm as if his skin had suddenly become red-hot. Fuyuhiko swivelled through a pandemonium of mixed emotions. Satisfaction, followed by shame. He had just reduced the stalwart Akane to a little girl whose breath caught in her throat and who recoiled from him as if he'd just declared his loyalty to Junko.  
  
The one statement got the result Fuyuhiko desired. Akane fled the bar with Kazuichi over her shoulder, and he was left alone.  
  
Sights and sounds and sensations melted together in a drunken haze. Still, he kept dowsing the flame with more alcohol. In a small corner of his mind, he knew he was just making a bad situation worse—but that was his specialty. It didn't really matter. Even if it did matter, he couldn't muster the energy to care. What did it matter when most of his friends were dead—from Peko to Nekomaru to fucking Teruteru. He couldn't believe he'd ever live to see the day when he actually missed Teruteru and his cooking.  
  
Fuyuhiko also never thought that he'd be in a bar, drinking without remorse. Then again, he'd done a whole bunch of things he'd thought he'd never do. He'd never expected to be a saint as a yakuza crime boss, but not the cause of the end of the world. Now his talent was meaningless. He was just some twenty-something-year-old who had been involved in a plot to bring despair to the world and succeeded.  
  
No wonder the Future Foundation wanted them dead.  
  
Better to drink and forget it happened. Fuyuhiko lay his head on the counter and drifted into oblivion.

* * *

 

Hina paced on the porch, arms folded and brow furrowed. The world had been much darker since the the conception of the Tragedy, and it seemed much darker now, as she waited like a worrying mother.  
  
Akane had been gone for far too long.  
  
Akane had been gone long enough for Hina to imagine scenarios where the Future Foundation swept in and arrested them all—then executing her wards before Makoto could save the day. Enough for Hina to worry. Her imagination was much more terrifying than reality. She knew this and it didn't stop it from spiralling out of control. Hina had barely been on Jabberwock Island a week and already things were in chaos.  
  
Makoto wouldn't have had this problem. He would've earned their trust and inspired them with hope. He would've talked through their emotions. Now all the Remnants had was his second-rate friend, Aoi Asahina, whose 'Despair Rehabilitation Program' was more like an explosion.  
  
The front door opened and Sonia joined her on the porch. Her eyes were far too old.  
  
"I wonder what Akane's doing," Hina worried. "All she had to do was find Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi and bring them back. How hard could that be?"  
  
"Both Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi are defiant," said Sonia. "I am sure that they are giving Akane trouble."  
  
"Yeah, but Akane would be able to handle it." Hina slammed her fist into the side of the house. "Dammit, I should've kept a better tab on things!"  
  
"It is not your fault," Sonia assured her.  
  
"I'm responsible for everything that happens around here. I spent all day with Alter Ego trying to sort out this mess—and I couldn't even get a hold of Makoto and Kyoko!"  
  
"Makoto and Kyoko are occupied elsewhere. I do not believe you are responsible for that."  
  
Hina sighed and massaged her forehead. "This is a damn mess."  
  
"Messes can be cleaned up," said Sonia. "Please do not be too hard on yourself, Hina. What has happened here is not your fault...and I am afraid that my friends and I can be rather a handful."  
  
"Heh. I guess that's what you get when you're a student of Hope's Peak. I don't think there wasn't any student there that wasn't a handful in one way or another."  
  
They leaned against the railing and stared out into the still night.  
  
"It is quite lovely," Sonia marvelled.  
  
"Even the settlement?" Hina drawled.  
  
"Even the settlement. To me, it is a reminder that life is thriving. This is a world that has faced many challenges, and yet still people continue to live." She bowed her head. "I hope that Novoselic is faring well in these troubled times. It pains me to be away from my people, despite the grief I must have caused them."  
  
The hairs on the back of Hina's neck bristled. She still had to work up the nerve to break the news to Sonia.  
  
"Someday I should like to go back and correct the mistakes I have made," Sonia affirmed. "I don't think that...wait. Hina, look!”  
  
Hina bolted upright. Just entering the beam created by the porch light was colossal figure that only Akane could protest. She had a figure on her shoulder far too gaudy to be Fuyuhiko. In fact, Fuyuhiko was no where in sight.  
  
Hina's heart migrated to her throat. She leapt over the porch railing and sprinted to meet them.  
  
"I was starting to get worried," said Hina. "Where's Fuyuhiko?"  
  
"Still at the bar," Akane answered.  
  
Something wasn't right. Akane's voice was low and grating. She haphazardly deposited Kazuichi on the ground.  
  
"I gotta talk to Gundham," she said.  
  
"Not you too!” Hina moaned. “What about Fuyuhiko?!"  
  
"Later. Gotta talk to Gundham."  
  
Akane hurried into the house. Kazuichi twisted to look up at Hina. His eyes were red-rimmed and unfocused.  
  
"Fuyuhiko said something to her at the bar," he said with the slightest trace of urgency. "Something about her brothers and sisters?"  
  
"Shit!" Hina gasped. She turned on her heel and barrelled after Akane. "Shit—shit—SHIT!"  
  
Akane wasn't ready to know.  
  
She wasn't ready.  
  
Hina ran so quickly that she felt like her spirit was ripped from her body. She was watching herself barrel through the living room. Down the hall. Into the kitchen. Slamming into Hajime as she burst open the door.  
  
She and Hajime stood, tense, on the sidelines, while Akane grabbed the already battered Gundham. With one arm, she lifted him far off the ground, his feet dangling several feet off the ground. Akane, enraged. Gundham, an air of smug satisfaction.  
  
Akane curled her lips. She looked like a tigress about to pounce. "Where. Are. They?"  
  
"Where is who?" Gundham asked.  
  
"You know precisely you, you son of a bitch. Where are they? WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!"  
  
"Ah, you must mean your brothers and sisters. Tell me this, Akane Owari: which would inspire greater despair in you? Having knowledge of their whereabouts or not having knowledge?"  
  
"Don't try to confuse me! Just tell me where they are!"  
  
Gundham grinned toothily. "Ask her."  
  
Gundham Tanaka was a devil. All that was missing was a pitchfork and horns, and yet he made Hina felt like she was the sinner.  
  
Akane's expression went tense, as if she didn't dare believe it. When she finally looked at Hina after an eternity, her eyes were gleaming with terror.  
  
"What...does he mean?" Akane asked. "What do you know, Hina?"  
  
Hina searched for words in an endless cloud. She didn't want to do this. "I...I...."  
  
There was nothing more to say. Gundham dropped to the kitchen floor, alight with gratification. Akane had been drained of all strength, strength absorbed by Gundham—a fuel he used to increase the ever-growing fires of despair.  
  
Silent as snowfall, Akane walked out the back door and disappeared.  
  
The door behind Hina creaked open. Sonia and Kazuichi must've been listening in, and only now did they dare show themselves. Sonia's complexion was sallow and her hand covered her mouth. Through his intoxication, Kazuichi's eyes were watery and troubled.  
  
"Fuck," Kazuichi aptly said. Shaking all over, he rounded on Gundham, "Are you fucking satisfied, you psycho?!"  
  
"Satisfied?" Gundham repeated, smiling. "I have reminded Akane of who she is. Naturally I am satisfied.”  
  
"Will you wipe that fucking smirk off your face?! It's creeping me out!"  
  
"Stop it," Hina said. "He wants you to listen to him. Indulging him won't change anything."  
  
She shifted from shock, back to annoyance.  
  
"You were supposed to bring Fuyuhiko back, y'know," Hina scolded Kazuichi.  
  
"Hey, the guy looked like he could use some company," said Kazuichi. "And after tonight, I don't think I can blame him for wanting a few drinks."  
  
"You look like you've had more than a few."  
  
Kazuichi shrugged.  
  
"Time to do some damage control," said Hina. "Hajime, do you think you'll be able to talk some sense into Fuyuhiko."  
  
Hajime hesitated. "I can try. I don't know if he'll want to listen, though."  
  
"This is pretty much the only option we have left. We'll worry about Akane later. Maybe some time alone will do her good...We need to get Fuyuhiko back to the house and then we'll figure out what to do. Sonia, think you can handle Gundham?"  
  
"I will do my best," Sonia nodded.  
  
"Your best is enough. Hajime, let's go!"  
  
Hina grabbed Hajime's hand and pulled him into the night, leaving behind Sonia and a wobbly Kazuichi. She didn't waste time with discussion or hesitation. If she hadn't hesitated in the first place, perhaps things wouldn't be as bad as it were.  
  
She dragged Hajime down the road leading to the settlement. The lights of the meagre village perfectly reflected the collage of stars. To their right, the high tide of the ocean pressed them against the weight of the forest, so that the road funnelled them to their destination. Hina thought of Akane, and hoped that she would be able to mend the damage Gundham had done. He was a divisive force that had already threatened to tear them apart. If she didn't find some sort of glue to pull them back together, her wards would wander into the wilderness and be forever lost to despair.  
  
She could still fix this.  
  
Night encased the settlement in shadows. The streets were lit with makeshift lights attached to the old power lines, but in between there was nothing but darkness. Hina hadn't learned the layout of the island to easily navigate in the dark. Fortunately, the bar was one of the more notable landmarks, with its neon sign calling out to them. To her surprise, she saw the bartender standing just outside, smoking and his arms folded and the frustration thwarting the rest of his emotions.  
  
"It's about fucking time," he said as they approached. "Get that assface out of here! He scared all of my customers away! Said he was gonna end the world and execute anyone taller than five-foot-five!"  
  
"Oh, that's...bad," Hina admitted. "Uh, we'll get him—no problem. I think."  
  
Well, she sounded sure of herself.  
  
Hajime and Hina entered the bar and were immediately struck with the strong cocktail of cigarette smoke and alcohol. It had only gotten stronger since Hina had last been there. All the same, Fuyuhiko hadn't moved. Judging by the ashtray next to him, he'd gone through half a pack of cigarettes—and judging by the bottles around him, he'd gone through enough liquor to knock out an elephant. But he wasn't so wasted that he couldn't lift his head, and he did so as they approached.  
  
Lucky for them, the bar was empty, so at least they would be awarded some privacy. The last thing she wanted was a drunken Fuyuhiko blowing their cover and having the wrath of the world come down on them.  
  
Hina was surprised how multifaceted he was at that moment—depressed and yet contemplative. For someone who she'd thought would be wasted, he was surprisingly focused.  
  
"Not you two," Fuyuhiko murmured. "Go fuck yourself."  
  
"You need to come back to the house," Hajime said firmly.  
  
"Nope. Not listening."  
  
"We're not going anywhere until you come back with us."  
  
"I'm not moving from this spot. Ever.”  
  
Hajime pursed his lips. "I thought you hated drinking."  
  
"Things change. How about you stop criticizing me and my life choices?"  
  
"These are pretty crappy choices, Fuyuhiko."  
  
"Yup. Shitty choices. Heh, maybe that can be my new talent.”  
  
"Fuyuhiko....what did Gundham say to you to make you think that this is the only way to deal with it?"  
  
He scoffed. "The usual shit. World domination. Despair is great. All hail Junko-fucking-Enoshima."  
  
“If that was just it, I don’t think you would’ve beat him up like that.”  
  
"I am not going back to the halfway house while he's there."  
  
"It's not a halfway house."  
  
"Nope, it's just a place where the Future Foundation thinks they can tore us on ice like fucking science experiments."  
  
"Fuyuhiko, you're drunk. Very drunk."  
  
"Why does everyone say that like it's some sort of revolutionary sort of thing?! People get fucking drunk all the time?! Why should I feel sorry for Tanaka the fucking Forbidden One? Y'know—I think we all should've died in that program. The world would be better off without us."  
  
"Like it or not, Fuyuhiko, we're here. We're alive. We have to make the best of this situation."  
  
"I like how you call the end of the world a 'situation.' Classy." He chortled, a twisted smile crawling up his face. "I wish I'd had the guts to kill freckle-face before Peko did."  
  
"Her name's Mahiru."  
  
"Mahiru! What a stupid name! It sounds like a cow."  
  
"I don't think Mahiru would appreciate it if you compared her to a cow."  
  
"Why you talkin' about her like she fucking cares? The woman's dead!"  
  
"She's in a coma."  
  
"And big fat fucking chance she's gonna wake up! I mean, what are the odds that out of everyone, it'd be Gundham who made some miraculous recovery! And he did it because of some fucking loophole he arranged with that psychopath!"  
  
Now Hina really had no idea what he was talking about.  
  
"Might as well take 'em off life support," Fuyuhiko scoffed. "Peko wouldn't have wanted to live hooked up to a machine."  
  
"Look, I didn't come here to debate about what we're going to do with the others," Hajime pressed. "I came to bring you home. This isn’t the way to solve anything. I’m…I’m disappointed in you. I’m disappointed that you think this is the only way to cope.”  
  
“Don’t fucking say that!” Fuyuhiko raged.  
  
Fuyuhiko studied the half-empty bottle, turning it just enough so Hina could see the name 'Togami' on the side. Of course it had to be one of those bottles. He released a defeated sigh with a sense of finality, eyes shuddering closed.  
  
"Ugh," he groaned. "Fine, you win. I fucking give up. Let's go."  
  
Hajime's shoulders sagged with relief. "Thanks, Fuyuhiko."  
  
"Don't thank me, idiot."  
  
Fuyuhiko hopped off the stool. The moment his feet made contact with the floor, he stumbled to the side—his arm snapping out to grab the counter for support. His face was flushed.  
  
"Er...you sure you can walk?" Hina asked.  
  
"Of course I can fucking walk!" Fuyuhiko declared. "One foot in front of the other, right?"  
  
He promptly keeled head-over-heels.  
  
It took several minutes of heaving, hauling, and negotiation just to get Fuyuhiko to the door. He resisted at every point, up until he lost consciousness. It was much easier to maneuver him while he wasn't awake, until he regained his senses and mistook Hajime for Izuru. By the time they managed to get him outside, Hajime had a sore jaw from where Fuyuhiko had punched him and Fuyuhiko, himself, was draped between the two of them. He was limp and lose, flapping around like a shirt on a clothesline.  
  
When they stepped out into the cool night air, the bartender immediately intercepted them.  
  
"It's about time!" he exclaimed. He loomed over Fuyuhiko. "The next time you want a drink, you're paying extra!"  
  
"Threaten me again and I'll kill you," Fuyuhiko hissed.  
  
"Shut up already," Hina snapped. "You've caused enough trouble for one night. You're grounded!"  
  
"I'll fucking kill you..." Fuyuhiko murmured without much steam. Then he was quiet.  
  
Hajime and Hina dragged Fuyuhiko away from the bar as quickly as possible. Hina felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulder. One problem had been taken care of.  
  
"I think he's going to have a headache in the morning," said Hajime.  
  
"We're all going to have headaches in the morning," Hina replied.  
  
"...What're we going to do about Gundham?"  
  
Hina focused. She knew the answer to that. "We're going to help him."  
  
"Do you think it's possible?"  
  
"I didn't say that this whole despair rehabilitation thing was going to be easy, but we're going to help him," Hina reiterated. "And...And I think I'm going to need your help."  
  
"My help?"  
  
"I'm...I'm hoping that you could be my assistant or something."  
  
"I'm not sure how much help I'd be."  
  
"You're too hard on yourself. I see the way the others look at you. They respect you, you know that? They really respect you."  
  
"Izuru Kamukura isn't something that should be respect."  
  
"And Hajime Hinata isn'?"  
  
Hajime was quiet.  
  
"I saw the footage from the Neo World Program," Hina continued. "You were able to talk the others into believing in the future. You did that. Not Makoto, not Kyoko, and definitely not Byakuya—it was _you_."  
  
“It’s easy to talk big when your memory’s just a bunch of jumbled puzzle pieces,” Hajime said. “Things are different in the real world. The Neo World Program was just a fantasy.”  
  
"You meant what you said about the future, right?"  
  
"Well...yeah..."  
  
"Then you're the best person for the job. Unless I have your help, I'm not sure how much help these support groups are going to be. These guys just don't trust me yet. I haven't...I haven't earned that trust. So, what'dya say? Want to be Assistant Den Mother?"  
  
She turned just enough to catch his expression. The twilight reflected in the red pools of his irises, and they were lost, as if he was on the verge of revealing some monumental secret. But in an instant, the impression was gone, and he was back to himself. He gave her a smile.  
  
"Assistant Den Mother, huh?" Hajime mused. "I like the irony of Izuru being a den mother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, my thoughts on this chapter:
> 
> I'm only so-so on the chapter's contents. I feel like every chapter needs to have a specific purpose, but this one is more filler than anything else. I hope I'll be able to progress the story better in the future.
> 
> And now, for the part where I rant about the anime:
> 
> HINA LIVES.
> 
> FOR NOW.
> 
> I WAS LITERALLY FEEL OUT OF MY SEAT AFTER SHE STOOD UP. I MEAN REALLY. TOMATO SAUCE? TOMATO SAUCE!
> 
> THERE’S STILL A CHANCE SHE MIGHT DIE, SO I’M NOT GOING TO CELEBRATE UNLESS SHE LIVES THROUGH THE WHOLE ORDEAL.
> 
> Okay, so the anime’s had a lot of new developments since I last updated this story—obviously. I still really love the anime, but I can’t say I’m happy about the not-twist of Miaya being Monaca.
> 
> I really didn’t want to believe all those Monaca theories…To be frank I hate Satan—er, I mean Monaca and would be happy to see her die a horrible, horrible death. Don’t care that she’s a kid. She’s a horrible person who deserves to suffer. :) It’s one black stain on the anime’s record, I’m still really happy with what we’ve been shown and we’re learning more about Hope’s Peak with every episode!
> 
> I mean, I really went out of my way to not include Monaca in AADRP (yes, I’m abbreviating it as that because the title is freaking long and I get tired of typing it out all the time). Initially she and Kotoko were both going to have roles, but I managed to find a way to make the story work without them. Not going to elaborate more on that because spoilers, but yeah. No Monaca. 
> 
> THANK GOD I DIDN’T WANT TO HAVE TO ENDURE WRITING HER. I think I would feel like a sinner if I did.
> 
> We also got to learn more about the Twilight Syndrome Murder Case! I’m not too bitter about the fact that the writers chose not to in depth with the direct events of the incident. I think it was interesting to see it from Hajime’s perspective and we learned a lot of new things about our dear Natsumi.
> 
> The events of the anime also confirmed a theory I’ve long been entertaining: that Junko wasn’t present during the events of Twilight Syndrome Murder Case and, thus, can be a considered an unreliable narrator for the way she portrayed it in Danganronpa 2. She probably learned about the events from the people involved. I’ll probably write a companion piece to AADRP detailing the events of Twilight Syndrome, but only when I have time, I’m swamped with projects as it is, lol.
> 
> I’ve always been confused about the age difference between Fuyuhiko and Natsumi. So I made them twins in this story, since they both seem to be in the same year in the anime, as Natsumi is in the same year as Sato and Hajime, and Sato and Hajime seem to be in the same year as the 77th class. Albeit, this is an assumption I’m making. The anime makes it clear that the 77th class are first years. (Seiko refers to Nagito as ‘one of the first years’ in the fourth episode of Despair Arc.)
> 
> Long story short, unless we get clarification on the age difference between Fuyuhiko and Natsumi, I’m going to assume they’re twins, and change this small detail if the need arises in the future. I imagine that if they aren’t twins, then the age difference between them can’t be more than a year.
> 
> Despite that, I think I might’ve heard that Peko and Fuyuhiko are technical third years by the time Makoto and co. come to Hope’s Peak, but I don’t know why they would be? The 77th class are all first years and, despite some evidence in DR2 that not everyone is in the same year, the anime makes it clear that they’re in the 77th year…DANGANRONPA GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND BE CONSISTENT PLEASE.
> 
> Anyways, for the time being, Fuyuhiko can be an angsty surviving twin. Give him a round of applause!
> 
> Few other bonus things concerning this story: the song Fuyuhiko hears on the radio in the bar is “We Only Attack Ourselves” by Funeral Suits.
> 
> On the subject of music, I have also created an 8tracks playlist based around AADRP. Now you can listen to the shit I listen to when I write!  
> Playlist found here: http://8tracks.com/hannimble/despair-rehabilitation  
> Tracklist found here: http://hannimble.tumblr.com/post/147824825851/despair-rehabilitation-a-playlist-inspired-by-my
> 
> And now, my loves, PLEASE INDULGE ME FOR THIS ONE MOMENT.
> 
> I have been totally overwhelmed by the response to this story. I honestly didn’t think that this thing was even going to go anywhere, but people who have been leaving comments, bookmarking, and kudos have inspired me to just keep writing. Thank you for making the process of writing this story a good experience. Writing has sometimes left me frustrated, angry, and sad…but when I think of this story and being able to write for you guys, it becomes the highlight of my day.
> 
> I love writing for you guys…Hugs for everybody!
> 
> Okay, enough sentimentality. Onwards!


	6. The Buddy System

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!SPOILER WARNING!!!!!
> 
> Story contains spoilers for Danganronpa 3: End of Hope's Peak Academy. You have been warned!

PAST

He was out of bullets and willpower.  
  
Fuyuhiko raced down the length of the parkade, black overcoat billowing behind him, his fedora flying off in his hurry. He didn't need it. What he needed was a doctor, a hot drink, a safe place to sleep, and a doctor.  
  
It was important to mention the doctor twice.  
  
None were available, because just outside he saw the world aflame, and he had more pressing concerns. Such as his life potentially being ended.  
  
Pausing his gain to his bearings, he ducked behind a cement pillar and checked his pistol. Empty. If he was Nagito, maybe he wouldn't need them, but reality was setting in and he was running out of time. He was going to have to improvise. Swearing profusely, Fuyuhiko dug into his coat and dumped the contents onto the ground. Nothing except a few cigarette packs, a crumpled map of Towa City, and a switchblade. One of the many switchblades Kazuichi had modified for personal use.  
  
Better than nothing. He chose the switchblade.  
  
Fuyuhiko took a breath to steady himself. He trembled from the core of his heart to the tips of his fingers, and this time he couldn't stop it. The last two days were a haze of garbled memories, startling realizations, and deep-sit fear that numbed his skin and shook his confidence. He was used to maintaining a certain level of composure, but he permitted himself a quick, private moment to slip. To throw himself into the throngs of dread and agitation, to long for better days. If he was a different person, if there wasn't so much at stake, he would be ready to roll onto his back and wait for the inevitable. It was the fragments of hope peeking through the flaming city that kept him upright.  
  
How. How the hell had his life turned into a churning cauldron of poison?   
  
Fuyuhiko sidled to the edge of the pillar and used the switchblade to peer around the corner. He saw her figure, dark against the blossoming fire.  
  
No more hiding.  
  
Fuyuhiko rounded the pillar and took up position in the centre of the parkade. She stood rigid, her silvery hair lose and long.  
  
"Peko," he said.  
  
Peko didn't answer. She was unyielding.  
  
"Peko, you have to listen to me," Fuyuhiko urged. “Junko's lost her fucking mind! This—This whole mission of hers won't work! But we have a chance to get out of this!"  
  
She advanced, slowly and methodically, her katana dragging against the cement with a grating screech. Fuyuhiko backed away, knowing that he wouldn't be able to defeat her in a direct fight.  
  
He took two steps back before he ran into something solid.  
  
Swinging around, he looked up and found himself peering into the malevolent void of Gundham Tanaka's eyes. He was a man ensnared by the atrocity of his crimes.  
  
"Lady Enoshima suspected that you would try to tempt Peko back into hope's feeble embrace," said Gundham. "She sent me to prevent that."  
  
"Tempt?" Fuyuhiko repeated. "Yeah, right. _Tempt._ I don't remember inviting you to this soirée!"  
  
"You have the honour of being one of Lady Enoshima's most valuable assets. You should be grateful!"  
  
"I don't owe anything to that bitch! You can run back to your mistress and tell her she can kiss my ass!"  
  
Gundham expression faltered from calm to rage. "You are fortunate that Lady Enoshima requested that we bring you back alive, else I would strike you down for that slur. However, if you wish to avoid serious injury, you will show respect for our mistress and return with us."  
  
"Do not force us to call Nekomaru," Peko added.  
  
Fuyuhiko turned, trying to keep both of them in his sight and failing miserably. There was no way. If he couldn't defeat Peko, he could still outmanoeuvre her; he knew her moves all too well. But with the two of them working together and Nekomaru on standby, he was trapped. The only thing he could do was try to reason with two of the most unreasonable people he knew.  
  
"Junko's plan won't work," said Fuyuhiko. "This is fucking insane!"  
  
"You're in too deep, Fuyuhiko," Peko stated. "You swore your loyalty to Junko, and now you insult her by fleeing."  
  
"You can't do this!" Fuyuhiko raged. He turned to Peko. "No—I order you not to do this!"  
  
"You can no longer influence me. Junko freed me from your control."  
  
Fuyuhiko's back hit the pillar a second time. He had no choice, then. If he was going to make a statement to Junko, now had to be the time.

* * *

 

 PRESENT

Mid-afternoon sun cascaded through the kitchen windows like waterfalls constructed of light. It was a nice day outside. Shame the mood in the house couldn’t quite match that.  
  
Hina stared blankly at the mug of coffee sitting in front of her. It tasted horrible; there was no such thing as good coffee in a post-apocalyptic world. But it was better than nothing, and it just so happened that it was the fifth one that day. Her fingers were beginning to tingle and she could sense a caffeine crash just out of sight.  
  
As long as coffee kept her from drowning her sorrows in a bottle of Togami Vodka, it was good enough.  
  
Hina sighed, grabbed the mug in one hand, and pulled out her phone with the other. Most cell services had been obliterated during the Tragedy, but the Future Foundation maintained its own private network. The touch phone she possessed had their fingerprints all over it. All business and no play, totally lacking all the bells and whistles on the phone she'd had at Hope's Peak. Just as she picked it up, Alter Ego's floating face appeared.

“I know what you’re going to ask, and no—I haven’t been able to get a hold of Makoto or Kyoko,” said Alter Ego.  
  
Hina had expected it, but nevertheless her heart fell. “Thanks for going to all this trouble, Alter Ego.”  
  
"It's the least I can do. Don't worry, okay? I imagine Munakata's giving them trouble back at headquarters."  
  
Alter Ego vanished when the back door popped open and in came Hajime. His shoulders were tense.  
  
"Any luck?" Hina asked.  
  
"No sign of her at the bar or the food distribution centre," said Hajime. "I think she'll be back soon, actually."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Akane hasn't eaten since last night. If she's not at those places, then her only choice is to come back here."  
  
Now why hadn't she thought of that. "I hope you're right. Guess it's about time to call an emergency support group, anyways."  
  
"You sure you don't want to wait a bit longer?"  
  
"No time like the present. Plus I think we've let Fuyuhiko sleep it off for long enough."  
  
"How's he doing?"  
  
Hina shrugged. "Checked on him about an hour ago and he was out like a light. If you're referring to his mental state though, then I guess we won't know for sure until he wakes up."  
  
"When you wake him up, try to stand at a safe distance."  
  
"Noted."  
  
Hina gathered her courage and went to her room. When they had brought Fuyuhiko back last night, getting him up the stairs and into the bed proved to be too great a challenge. It was much easier to deposit him on Hina's bed. Of course, that was after Fuyuhiko had tried to punch Gundham for the second time. And threw up. Hina curled her noise as the strong stench of vomit reached her nostrils.  
  
She was going to need more bleach.  
  
Hina creaked open her door. The room was plunged in darkness, save for strips of sunlight where the blinds covered the window. The bed underneath it contained a mass of tangled sheets and a tuft of blond hair sticking out the top. The rather comfortable looking mound rose and fall with Fuyuhiko’s even breathing. He looked almost peaceful. More peaceful than Hina had seen him before, and she reckoned more peaceful than he had been for a long time. It was almost a shame that she would have to shatter his comfortable bubble.  
  
“Uh...Fuyuhiko?” she hissed.  
  
No response. This wasn’t going to be easy.  
  
“Fuyuhiko, it’s time to get up.”  
  
Nothing.  
  
“Hey, Fuyuhiko! Kazuichi said you were short!”  
  
Still no response. The guy really was out of it.  
  
Hina tiptoed to the bed and lightly shook Fuyuhiko’s form. The Ultimate Yakuza let out a low hum and pulled the sheets up so that the top of his head vanished completely. Now just just looked like a benign tumour growing on the mattress.  
  
“It’s time to wake up,” Hina prompted him. “We’re having an emergency support group.”  
  
“Mhm,” Fuyuhiko hummed.  
  
“...You’re not getting up, are you?”  
  
“...Fu...Fuck...off...”  
  
That sounded more like the Fuyuhiko she knew. All the same, she lacked the patience to put up with his resistance much longer. Drastic times called for drastic measures. Hina reached over the bed and pulled open the blinds.  
  
The result was a jump scare straight out of a horror movie. Fuyuhiko released a strained gasp and shot upright in bed, one arm snapping to shield his eye from the sun, the other knotting into the sheets.  
  
“What the fuck?” he groaned.  
  
“It’s time to get up, Fuyuhiko,” said Hina. “We’re having an emergency support group regarding what happened yesterday.”  
  
"What?"  
  
“Support group. Y’know, those things that you think are a waste of time? Oh, uh, I better get you some clothes...”  
  
Hina had completely forgotten that Hajime had been forced to take Fuyuhiko's clothes after he'd thrown up. The only thing Fuyuhiko was wearing was a set of very nice looking boxers far too expensive given their purpose. Fortunately for her, he didn't seem aware of his indecency.  
  
There was a light knock at the door and she whirled around to find Hajime standing there with a folded set of casual clothes in his arms.  
  
“Thought you might need some help,” he said. “Want me to...?”  
  
“Yes, please,” Hina nodded eagerly.  
  
Hina waited outside while Hajime got Fuyuhiko dressed. To his credit, Fuyuhiko managed to dress himself, though he had to be reminded how to put on a shirt. When Hina returned, she found him clothed and wobbling. The far-too-large t-shirt and shorts made him look much to small. Not at all like the Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu she knew, whose physical stature never diminished his presence.  
  
“I think he could use some accessories,” Hina said, hoping that the jab at Fuyuhiko’s pride would stir him into action.  
  
“Yeah, something to mask the smell,” Hajime drawled. “What do you think, Fuyuhiko?”  
  
Fuyuhiko’s skin withered from pasty to stark white like someone had just flipped a switch.  
  
“I think...I think I’m gonna be sick,” he moaned.  
  
Fuyuhiko hurdled into the bathroom and slammed the door behind them. That was shortly followed by the sound of him retching—hopefully into the toilet. Hina didn’t fancy the idea of spending the day cleaning her bathroom.  
  
A rush of confidence grated through her. She became determined not to let an incident like last night happened again on her watch—not when so many people were counting on her to be strong. Makoto and Kyoko were counting on her. The Remnants were counting on her. Yuta's memory was counting on her. She wasn't going to let them down anymore.

Setting her shoulders, she knocked on the bathroom door and prayed that Fuyuhiko hadn't had the presence of mind to lock it behind him.  
  
“Knocking’s just a formality,” Hina called. “I’m coming in.”  
  
She did so. She went right in and shut the door behind her.  
  
Fuyuhiko’s face was stuffed into the toilet so far that she could only see the back of his head. Hina paused, unsure that this had been the best idea. Then, she grabbed a washcloth, drenched it with cold water in the sink, and dropped it on the back of his neck. He flinched at the contact.  
  
“You can’t do this again,” she said simply.  
  
He didn’t reply. The windows and doors were locked, and he was staring at her from a gap in the curtain.  
  
“I’m worried about you,” Hina continued, kneeling beside him. “I’ve seen this kind of self-destructive behaviour while working with the Future Foundation and I don’t want you to end up like some of the people I’ve known.  
  
“Why?” Fuyuhiko grumbled. “Got something you want to prove to Makoto?”  
  
“I’m not trying to prove anything to Makoto. I’m trying to prove something to myself.”  
  
Fuyuhiko gripped the toilet bowl harder. “So you’re doing this ‘cause you’re selfish.”  
  
Hina relaxed, turned away, and leaned against the bathroom sink. The handles of the cupboards cut into her back and made it impossible to get comfortable. Seemed appropriate.  
  
“Before I came here...I found out my little brother died,” she admitted.  
  
He went silent.  
  
“He died and I wasn’t there to protect him,” she said. “After escaping Hope’s Peak, I just assumed that everyone in my family was dead. I shed my tears and did my grieving. I moved on and kept working for the Future Foundation, wearing the suit, helping refugees, trying...trying to make it all mean something. And then Toko told me that Yuta had been alive in Towa City, only to just die...It’s like I’ve lost him twice and I wasn’t there for him either time.  
  
“Before I left for the academy, he’d sworn to become an Ultimate and earn his way into Hope’s Peak. He wanted nothing more than to follow in my footsteps—and he could’ve done it, y’know? Maybe he could’ve even succeeded my title, if he’d just gotten the chance. We made plans...I was...I was gonna train him...maybe pull a few strings at the academy to have them scout him. I would’ve done anything for him. But it was all just words and empty promises at the end of it, because I couldn’t protect him from the Tragedy. I couldn’t protect him from the Ultimate Despairs.  
  
“When Makoto saw me to take this job, I saw it as an escape. Purely selfish motivations. Even wanting to help you guys is selfish. I wanted to help someone so I could feel better about myself—so I could feel as if I was actually making a difference. Truth be told, the Future Foundation is a lot different from what I thought it would be. There’s a lot of in-fighting, competition, and hostility between certain departments. Maybe if the Future Foundation was different the situation in Towa City wouldn’t have been as bad as it was. Maybe they wouldn’t have put bounties on your heads and they could’ve helped you instead of just trying to kill you guys on sight. I wanted to help you guys, but this isn’t about me, is it? The world’s just gone to hell and I’ve just been here for the ride, not making a huge dent on it.”  
  
She inhaled sharply and turned her head.  
  
“And that’s the sad story of Aoi Asahina. Not much when you compare it to what you guys’ve gone through.”  
  
The silence in the bathroom was daunting. Fuyuhiko flushed the toilet and scooted away to leaned against the opposite wall.  
  
“I guess this is the part where he bond over our dead siblings,” he quipped.  
  
“Not if you don’t want to,” Hina replied.  
  
He frowned and focused, then he lost concentration again. His eyes glazed over, thick and heavy and sad. “Gundham told me about some stuff that we did while we were Ultimate Despair.”  
  
“That’s how you knew about Akane’s brothers and sisters?”  
  
“Yeah,” he nodded. “And about Sonia’s country, and how Kazuichi killed his dad, and how I forced my family to commit suicide.”  
  
Hina couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. She settled for a spot just over his shoulder—the wall was a safe shade of uncontroversial beige.  
  
“Just how long...” Fuyuhiko hissed. “How long were you willing to let us sit on that?”  
  
“Makoto and Kyoko’s instructions were clear,” said Hina. “You guys had to remember at your own pace, but...but I was planning to tell about Sonia about her country, honest! Just to lessen the blow a little. I just don’t know how to bring it up. How do you tell the Ultimate Princess that everything she’s ever lived for is a pile of ashes?”  
  
“So Sonia can’t go home?”

“There’s nothing left to go home to.”  
  
She could see anguish playing with Fuyuhiko’s features like someone poking him with needles to manipulate his facial muscles. At once, she knew what he was thinking. Four of the five surviving Remnants had Japan. Even if it was a shadow of its former self, it was a shadow that could be repaired. The best Sonia could hope for was to adopt it as her new home.  
  
When Sonia had come to Japan, had she known? Had she known that her homeland was doomed and that she would be remembered as a blight?  
  
Hina wrenched herself out of her train of thought. Sonia could come later. Right now she had Fuyuhiko to worry about.  
  
“You can’t do this again,” she reiterated. “This is going to effect the others and you know it.”  
  
“Hey, if I feel like drowning in my sorrows, I’m gonna fucking do it!” Fuyuhiko barked.  
  
“Akane was really upset after what you said to her.”  
  
“Well, she should be! She fucking killed her siblings!”  
  
“She wasn’t ready to know that.”  
  
“And you thought that was for the best—I know! You can’t make this easier, Hina! You can’t possibly know what this is like!”  
  
“I just...I just thought I could fix things."  
  
“You. Thought. Wrong.”  
  
“So you’re not even going to try?”  
  
“Try to do what?”  
  
“To make the future Peko wanted you to have, or the future the Remnants are trying to make.”  
  
“Future?! _What future?!_ The Remnants should be in prison! We should face justice!”  
  
“You want the Future Foundation to execute you?!”  
  
“Of course not! But there should be some sense of fairness for our fucking victims! Akane’s siblings aren’t coming back! Sonia’s country isn’t coming back! Where’s the justice for the people we’ve killed?!”  
  
“That wasn’t your fault!”  
  
“We pulled the trigger! Brainwashed or not, we helped end the world!”  
  
“Makoto went to all this trouble to save you guys! Don’t make the sacrifices he’s made meaningless!”  
  
“We don’t get a free pass just because we were closest to Junko!”  
  
His face was bleached. For a moment, she thought he was going to be sick again, until she realized that it was from something else. It was from anger and guilt, collapsing on him as quick as society had.  
  
“Fuyuhiko?” Hina said gently. “Fuyuhiko, calm down. You don’t look well…”  
  
“That _bitch_ ,” he hissed. “All those years of being so near to her...I had so many chances to kill her and spare millions, and I didn’t do it! _Why didn’t I fucking do it?!_ ”  
  
“Junko’s dead! Please listen to me! You and the other Remnants were brainwashed!"  
  
“IT DIDN’T START OUT THAT WAY!”  
  
With a fell swoop of his arm, Fuyuhiko slammed his fist into the wall.  
  
Hina resisted the urge to leap forwards and shake some sense into him. She understood what he was thinking because she had thought the same things many time before. She, too, had brushed shoulders with Junko, believing her to be a friend. All of this was Junko’s doing. Imagery poured through her mind—images of Junko’s supple breasts, her wine-coloured lipstick, the walk that left muddles of melted spectators in her wake. So many times Hina had the opportunity to see her true nature, to see that her friend wasn’t who she thought she were. Instead, she’d been seduced by her sanguine charm.  
  
So many people died in her wake, and Hina realized just how lucky she was to be alive.  
  
Back in the present, Fuyuhiko’s breathing became laboured, his eyes wild and unseeing.  
  
“This is fucking insane,” he breathed. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Why did it turn out like this?”  
  
“Fuyuhiko,” Hina cooed. “I don’t have all the answers. But you and the others…you’ve come so far! You survived a killing game, you beat Junko’s AI, you _lived!_ And—And maybe you’re right! Maybe there isn’t any excuses for what the Remnants did, but you have a chance to help rebuild and make amends! Isn’t it worth it to just try?”  
  
“Try and do what? Try to fix a world that’s beyond repair?”  
  
“You don’t know that! Just—Just look at Jabberwock Island! It was abandoned during the Tragedy—but look at it now! There are people who are making a home here after losing everything! You don’t see them giving up!”  
  
“They didn’t cause all this.”  
  
“Fuyuhiko—”  
  
“Look, I get what you’re trying to say!” Fuyuhiko raged. “It’s _you_ who don’t understand. In the yakuza, it’s an eye for an eye. You kill my man, I kill one of yours. That’s the fucking trade-off!”  
  
His golden eye was a solar flare that swept right through her. Whatever secrets were still in the air were eradicated in the aftermath of a scorched Earth.  
  
“Do you know how many people we’ve killed?” Fuyuhiko asked. “There’s no honour in that, no eye-for-an-eye—you’d have to kill us ten million fucking times for the score to be even.”  
  
The quiet unease that had kept her from touching him crumbled. She took his shoulder. “There’s not enough people left in the world for you to not value your life.”  
  
“Like I care about the fucking world. Obviously didn’t care enough about it, actually.”  
  
“If you don’t try, then what the hell did Peko die for?!”  
  
“Don’t you dare speculate on what Peko would’ve wanted! She’s not fucking here, is she?!”  
  
Fuyuhiko stared at her like he could see the flash-footage of Peko’s execution. Hina had seen the recordings. It occurred to her that Fuyuhiko had probably re-watched them, too.  
  
“I don’t know if this is worth it,” he said in a tone that suggested an admission. An admission that not-knowing was the equivalent to saying I’m-terrified.  
  
“Fuyuhiko...what you’re doing...it’s effecting the others. Can’t you please try? Please...for the others?”  
  
“You just don’t understand, Hina. You don’t know what it’s like to have a big black hole in your memory and know that during that black hole, you did something awful. Something unforgivable. Memories keep...they keep flashing through my head and I can’t stop them. Sometimes I stop dead in my tracks and I can’t remember where I am or how I got there, because I’m in the past—because I’m Ultimate Despair again.”  
  
Hina chewed on her lip. She wished to God that she was the Ultimate Therapist.  
  
“I was like that for a while after the Future Foundation restored my memories,” she said. “It obviously wasn’t as disorientating as what you're experiencing, but it was strange to have all my old memories resurface when Junko had buried them.”  
  
He didn’t answer.  
  
“Well, anyways,” Hina continued. “For a while afterwards, I used a mantra to keep myself in the present, to remind myself where I was.”  
  
Fuyuhiko stirred. His arms were still folded, but his eye flickered to focus on her, and it was enough to keep her talking.  
  
“Like, um...for example. I’d say my name and what my role in the Future Foundation was and some other basic stuff, like my favourite food and my brother’s name. I—I don’t do it so often now that my memories have settled back in, but...maybe it could help you?”  
  
He scoffed. “Tch. Fucking stupid.”  
  
“It was just a suggestion...”  
  
Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Whatever. I’ll give it a try, but it’s fucking stupid.”  
  
She knew it was the best she was going to get from him, but it was enough. Just enough to put her nerves at ease.  
  
“So, how about it,” Hina asked. “You want to start over and give this all a second chance?”  
  
“Ugh. I guess if I don’t, either Hajime’ll have my head or you’ll nag me to death.” His expression shifted from resignation to determination. “But if you tell anyone about this conversation, I’m gonna make you regret it.”  
  
Big talk from a small guy. Hina thought she was starting to get used to it.  
  
“Won’t tell a soul,” she said. “On one condition.”  
  
 _“Condition?!”_  
  
“Hey, I let you sleep in my room! And I cleaned up your barf.”  
  
“I didn’t ask you to do any of that!” Fuyuhiko massaged his forehead. “I have a feeling I’m not gonna like this condition either...”  
  
Hina tilted her head and gave him a sly, knowing smile.

* * *

 

Kazuichi splashed some cold water on his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Deep black bags were developing under his eyes, giving him a gaunt appearance.  
  
It had been a hell of a night, from what Kazuichi could remember. Unfortunately, the alcohol hadn’t burnt enough of his memories. He still existed in the sinking moment when his heart plunged into his stomach as Fuyuhiko pulled off his patch to reveal Junko's blue iris. Just the thought twisted him into a knot and caused his bones to shiver. Pretty much everything else was a blur, but that image...No amount of drugs or drink could hope to erase that from his mind. It wasn't enough to have Junko in his nightmares—now he had to live with the knowledge that Fuyuhiko carried a piece of her around.

Just underneath that patch was Junko's memory watching them from the grave.  
  
A knock on the door caused his heart to leap from his stomach to his throat.  
  
“Hey, Kazuichi?” It was Hajime. “Support group in five.”  
  
“Right,” Kazuichi confirmed, trying to bolster his appearance in the mirror. Time to suck it in. “How’s Fuyuhiko doing?”  
  
“Hina talked to him. There was some shouting, but I think everything’s okay now.”  
  
Good. Hopefully one last thing to for him worry about. Kazuichi told Hajime that he would be right down and went back to studying his reflection.  
  
When he thought he was presentable enough, he gave himself a reassuring nod and went downstairs to join the congregation. Even from upstairs, he could perfectly hear everything that was going on in the house. He could hear Hina and Fuyuhiko talking in hushed, indistinguishable tones. He thought he could even hear Gundham laughing in the basement. All that, and still the house was much emptier without Akane to fill its crevasses with her boisterous presence.  
  
Kazuichi cut through the kitchen, started down the hall, and faltered in his steps as he entered the living room.  
  
Sonia was there and she was alone.  
  
“Shit,” he murmured, turning to backtrack to the kitchen. He was not ready to be alone in the same room with her.  
  
“Come join me, Kazuichi,” Sonia prompted.  
  
He stumbled, his feet unable to make up their mind. He finally settled for leaning against the wall, doing his best to try to look cool.  
  
“H—Hey, Sonia!” he smiled nervously. “F—Funny seeing you here!”  
  
“The meeting is soon, is it not?” Sonia pointed out. “Naturally I would be here.”  
  
“Uh, I know that! I—I just thought you were guarding Gundham.”  
  
“Hajime took over.”  
  
“Is Gundham, um...joining us?”  
  
“I believe so, yes.”  
  
Great. Kazuichi couldn’t wait to see Fuyuhiko explode when their resident Ultimate Despair waltzed in.  
  
He took the widest route possible to stay away from Sonia and took his seat on the couch, hands folded and pinned between his knees. Since Sonia was sitting right across from him, it was difficult to find something else to look at.  
  
Sonia cleared her throat. “This is the first time we’ve properly spoken since...”  
  
“Yeah,” Kazuichi nodded hurriedly, to assure her that he still remembered all the lurid details.  
  
“I have been meaning to speak to you, but...with all the excitement of Gundham’s awakening...I haven't found the appropriate time.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Awkward silence. Kazuichi wrangled with the small part of him that still wanted to dive onto the floor and profess his eternal love for her. But he realized in a split second of coherency that it wouldn’t change the outcome. He looked up, and it was like looking at her for the first time beyond the haze of the intense burden of unrequited infatuation.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.  
  
She smiled serenely at him. “Thank you.”  
  
Fortunately, he didn’t have to endure too long of a silence with Sonia. It was about as much as he could take, anyways, when the front door snapped open.  
  
“Akane!” Sonia exclaimed.  
  
Kazuichi whirled around. Sure enough, there was Akane, still and distant. Her eyes were red and puffy. Sonia leapt from her seat and went to meet her.  
  
“Akane, we were so worried about you!” said Sonia. “Are you alright? Where have you been?!”  
  
“Around,” Akane shrugged. “Figurin’ out stuff.”  
  
“What were you ‘figuring out?’”  
  
“Figured that Gundham’s wrong.”  
  
“Wrong? Wrong about what?”  
  
“My brothers and sisters aren’t dead," Akane said. "That’s bullshit.”  
  
Kazuichi exchanged a quick glance with Sonia.  
  
“I dunno, Akane,” said Kazuichi. “With all the shit that happened, don’t you think that—”  
  
“Look, Gundham thinks he’s a slave to Junko!” Akane argued. “He’s not exactly a good person to be gettin’ information from! My brothers and sisters could still be alive!”  
  
“Akane, I do not mean to be cynical, but that seems unlikely,” Sonia imparted.  
  
“You don’t know that!” Akane argued. “Did Hina see any bodies?! Was she there when she says they died?!”  
  
“W—Well, she hasn’t told us any details but—”  
  
“Exactly! She doesn’t know what happened! My siblings are still alive! So I’ve made up your mind.”  
  
“I’m gonna regret asking, but what exactly have you made up your mind about?” Kazuichi asked.  
  
Akane looked at them with a firm and determined gaze. “I’m going back to Tokyo.”  
  
 _“What?!”_ Both Kazuichi and Sonia exclaimed at the same time.  
  
“That’s where my brothers and sisters are,” said Akane. “The only reason I came back is to grab some food for the road.”  
  
“How are you gonna get there?!” Kazuichi demanded.  
  
“I’ll pay one of the guys at the shipyard or something.”  
  
“Akane, you do not seem to be thinking this through,” said Sonia. “I feel that if you go to Tokyo, you will be broken-hearted and alone.”  
  
“I’ve spent my whole life looking after my brothers and sisters! Protecting them from my good-for-nothing parents! I’m not gonna leave them!”  
  
Another voice interjected. “You don’t want to go back to Tokyo.”  
  
Silence drowned out all other sensation as three heads turned to look at Hina’s doorway. Fuyuhiko stood there, donned in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. The clothes looked like nothing he would usually wear, but his expression was still predominantly Fuyuhiko-ish.  
  
“And why the hell not?!” Akane demanded.  
  
“Several reasons, actually,” said Fuyuhiko. “First, you don’t want to go because there’s no reason to. Your brothers and sisters aren’t gonna be there.”  
  
“You don’t know that!”  
  
“I don’t remember everything about what happened...but...I feel that I’m right on this one.”  
  
“Fuck you! You’re just repeating what Gundham said! I won’t know for sure until I go back! I’ll rip up the whole damn city if I have to!”  
  
“Listen to me,” he urged. “Tokyo isn’t the same place anymore. It’s not safe to a safe place even for someone like you.”  
  
Hina appeared at Fuyuhiko’s shoulder. “I’m afraid he’s right. After the Tragedy started, people started forming factions. Some claimed allegiance to Ultimate Despair and others claimed that they were going to put society back together, but all of them had questionable strategies. Tokyo's pretty much a battleground now. The Future Foundation has a hard enough time maintaining a presence there with everything that’s going on.”  
  
“That won’t stop me,” Akane said lowly.  
  
“We need you here,” Sonia spoke up. “Please...If Fuyuhiko and Hina are right, then I do not think that you are prepared for what awaits you in Tokyo.”  
  
“So you want me to sit here on my ass?!”  
  
“I believe that returning to Tokyo would require significant preparation.”  
  
“What about my siblings?!”  
  
“If they are alive and if they are as strong as you, I feel confident that they would find a safe place to hide.”  
  
Akane didn’t look entirely convinced. All the same, she turned her head a quarter towards Hina’s direction, not looking up to meet her in the eye.  
  
“Well?” Akane asked.  
  
“People are still living there even if they aren’t the best conditions,” Hina admitted. “However, I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Akane. The Future Foundation’s reports indicate that your brothers and sisters didn’t survive the Tragedy.”  
  
“Stop it!” Akane barked. “Don’t give me speculation! I won’t believe it until I know for sure!”  
  
“Akane, won’t you please join the support group?” Sonia pleaded. "I do not think it is wise to return to Tokyo at this point. Our comatose friends need us. Do you not care for them?"  
  
“Don’t go stickin’ words in my mouth!”  
  
“If you care about us, you will realize that you are needed here. Your desire to find your brothers and sisters is righteous, but you mustn’t let that blind you to our present situation. Do not forget that it is entirely possible that Gundham is exaggerating the truth or concealing it altogether."  
  
Akane’s expression flickered like the first flare of stars at twilight. “Do you...think it’s possible that they’re alive?”  
  
“If that is your hope, then hold onto it. All of us have loved ones whose whereabouts we do not presently know. But also know that no matter the outcome, we are your friends and we are here for you.”  
  
To Kazuichi’s relief, Akane spent a few long seconds staring from one person to the next before taking her place on the love seat, legs spread and expression folded with angst.  
  
As usual, the peace scarcely lasted for two seconds. Kazuichi had gone to looking at Fuyuhiko, but Fuyuhiko wasn’t looking at anyone. His face was stark white, and the moment Kazuichi followed his eyes, he realized why.  
  
Hajime was standing in the hallway leading to the kitchen. Gundham—bound in ropes so that his arms were pinned at his sides—was with him.  
  
“Absolutely not!” Fuyuhiko shouted. “What the _fuck_ is that maniac doing here after what he’s done?!”  
  
“Don’t get all worked up,” said Hajime. “Before anyone accuses Hina of anything, know that I’m the one who suggested that Gundham join us.”  
  
“What?!” Akane exclaimed. “Why would you do that?! Look at the guy! Despair’s written all over him!”  
  
“That’s the exact reason why we agreed to this group,” said Hajime. “I think that it’s important that Gundham’s here.”  
  
Nobody looked especially assured at that even if the declaration had come from Hajime.  
  
“I really think we should just shove him back in the pod,” said Kazuichi.  
  
“That doesn’t solve anything,” Hajime shook his head. “C’mon, guys! When the others wake up, is shoving them back in the pod gonna be the answer? We have to figure out a way to remind them that there are alternatives to being mindless servants of Junko!”  
  
“I agree with Hajime," said Sonia.  
  
“Well, _I_ don’t,” Kazuichi snarled.  
  
“Same,” said Fuyuhiko.  
  
“Ditto,” added Akane.  
  
“You’re outvoted, Hajime,” said Fuyuhiko.  
  
“What about my vote?” Hina asked.  
  
“Technically you’re leading the group, but you’re not part of the group. Your vote didn’t count.”  
  
Hina pouted and folded her arms.  
  
Hajime furrowed his brow. He focused on Fuyuhiko. “Let’s say Peko woke up right now and didn’t remember anything about the simulation. Let’s say that she declared her undying loyalty to Junko and participating in this group was the only chance to save her. Would you want to shove her back in the pod even if she said some terrible things about stuff we did while we were Ultimate Despair?”  
  
“Don’t listen to him!” Kazuichi pleaded with Fuyuhiko. “He’s trying to manipulate you!”  
  
Fuyuhiko, however, had been transported to another world. He twirled a cigarette in his hand, his demeanour reluctant but contemplative.  
  
Finally, he swallowed and looked up at them all.  
  
“I’m changing my vote,” he announced.  
  
“No fair!” Akane argued. “You can’t change your vote!”  
  
“Too bad. I just did. It’s three-against-two; Gundham’s part of the group.”  
  
“This is bullshit!” Kazuichi exclaimed. “I don’t want him anywhere near me!”  
  
“You’ve been outvoted, Kaz,” said Hina. “As of right now, Gundham’s officially a member of our club.”  
  
“Since when did we become a club?!”  
  
“Enough arguing! Gundham’s part of the club. End of story.”  
  
With a smug smirk on his face, Gundham went over to the couch and sat next to Kazuichi.  
  
 _“Don’t you sit next to me!”_ Kazuichi screeched and stumbled over the coffee table in his hurry to put distance between himself and the Ultimate Breeder.  
  
Akane averted her gaze and folded her arms, tart with dislike. She gave Gundham an underhanded glower. Meanwhile, everyone else settled down in their respective spots—except for Kazuichi, who opted for sitting on the floor as far away from Gundham as possible. He wasn’t about to forget that the guy had shoved him into a pod and, for all intensive purposes, had intended to kill him.  
  
“This emergency support group is now in session,” Hina declared. “Before we get started, Fuyuhiko has something he wants to say.”  
  
“Do not!” Fuyuhiko grumbled.  
  
“Fuyuhiko, we had an agreement.”  
  
He groaned. “This is fucking stupid!”  
  
“Don’t make me get out the stun gun!”  
  
Fuyuhiko made an enormous show of rolling his eyes, then stood. His cigarette dangled distractedly from his fingers.  
  
“Sorry,” he said. Then he sat back down.  
  
“Fuyuhiko, say it with meaning!” Hina prompted.  
  
“Are you fucking serious?! I, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, do so _humbly_ apologize for my behaviour last night.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“And it will never happen again! _Happy?”_  
  
“Thank you, Fuyuhiko,” Hina beamed.  
  
“Yes, thank you!” Sonia concurred.  
  
“S—Shut up!” Fuyuhiko barked, flushing red.  
  
“Second matter of business,” Hina continued. “I’ve talked to Hajime, and he’s agreed to help me run the group. He’s like...the co-den mother. Or something.”  
  
Kazuichi stifled a laugh behind his hand.  
  
“Don’t laugh!” Hina exclaimed. “This is serious business!”  
  
“How’d she rope you into that, Hajime?” Kazuichi asked.  
  
“By asking,” Hajime droned.  
  
“Hajime will be helping me come with activities for the group,” said Hina. “So...if you guys don’t exactly feel comfortable coming to me, feel free to talk to Hajime.”  
  
“This is an uninspired waste of time,” Gundham seethed. “You should feel ashamed of yourselves for not attempting to kill Aoi Asahina on sight.”  
  
Kazuichi groaned as theatrically as he was able to.  
  
“Don't forget that by majority vote, Gundham is now part of the group,” Hina continued, ignoring both of them. “He’s one of us no matter how much he wants to run back and rejoin Ultimate Despair.”  
  
“One does not _rejoin_ Ultimate Despair,” said Gundham. “One is _always_ Ultimate Despair.”  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Kazuichi moaned. “Are we gonna have to keep listening to this?”  
  
“Until you see the righteousness of my words, then yes.”  
  
“I really think we should just shove him back in the pod.”  
  
“Just drop it,” Hina snapped. She then let out a sigh and rubbed her hands together nervously. “Look, after yesterday, I think it’s clear at that point that Makoto and I have been hiding certain things from you guys. About what you did as Ultimate Despair.”  
  
The silence swept over them like a sudden snowstorm. Even Gundham went still, alight with interest.  
  
“We have our reasons for doing that, reasons that I suspect you already know,” said Hina. “I don’t expect to be forgiven for hiding information, but...but I didn’t intend to hide things for forever and I’m sorry. I should’ve been more clear about how much we were weren't telling you."  
  
Sonia shifted. “Perhaps Hina is right."  
  
“So you think I didn’t deserve to know about my family?” Akane barked.  
  
“No—that’s not what I meant, Akane, and I am sorry about that. But Hina is not saying that she would have withheld it forever. Perhaps we should consider that it is better for our personal well-being if certain aspects of our lives as Ultimate Despair come to light at a natural pace. I do not think Hina should be faulted if certain facts are unpleasant.”  
  
“I think so, too,” Hajime agreed. “Junko dropped a bombshell on us in the simulation. Maybe it would’ve been better if we’d gradually remembered who we really are rather than all at once. We all saw what that did to Mikan. The important thing is that we need to do our best to not turn out like her.”  
  
Fuyuhiko huffed. “Like Gundham over there? What makes you think we can turn him back into the way he was—not that he was any better before?”  
  
“According to Miss Gekkogahara’s theories, just the fact that he was exposed to the simulation could undo some of the damage even if he doesn’t have any recollection of it,” said Hina.  
  
“Who’s Gekkogahara?” Fuyuhiko asked.  
  
"Miaya Gekkogahara is the Ultimate Therapist," Hajime recalled. "She was part of the team that developed the Neo World Program."  
  
“Hey—that’s right!” Hina confirmed. “Been doing some reading?”  
  
“A little bit, yeah,” Hajime nodded, a shaky smile crawling up his face.  
  
“I’ve actually never met her, but I did read some of her papers.”  
  
“You mean Alter Ego summarized them for you.”  
  
“H—How did you—wait, no! I mean—of course I read them! All the way through, too!”  
  
“If you say so.”  
  
“The—The point is that Miss Gekkogahara’s papers were very clear that the Neo World Program was designed to rewire the brain just by using it. Even though Gundham doesn’t remember any of it, that change still happened. His memories of the simulation might even be locked away.”  
  
“Helping Gundham remember the simulation could be the key to reversing this Ultimate Despair thing,” said Hajime. “So essentially it’s a situation completely reversed to what we’re going through. We have memories of the simulation, but not as Ultimate Despair. Gundham has memories of Ultimate Despair, but not of the simulation.”  
  
“It can’t be that simple to turn him back to the way he was,” Kazuichi scowled.  
  
“This is a precious waste of breath,” said Gundham. “Here you sit, squabbling about how to revert me back to a so-called ‘normal’ state, failing to understand that only through despair were my true powers awakened.”  
  
“That’s enough out of you,” Hina said firmly. “You know what we’re going to do, guys? We’re just going to keep plowing on. We’re going to see this commitment through! All while keeping a very close eye on Gundham over there.”  
  
“Are we going to continue to keep him bound?” Sonia asked. “I do not think that it is ethical to keep him restrained.”  
  
“Until we know exactly what he’s up to, I don’t see that we have any other choice,” said Fuyuhiko. “This is Gundham we’re talking about. If he wanted to escape, I think he would’ve done so already.”  
  
“Very perceptive, Fuyuhiko,” Gundham praised. “I have no desire to leave this den of inequity for the time being. Without all of the Ultimate Despairs united once more, I cannot hope to cause more than a fraction of the damage we did when we were amalgamated.”  
  
“That doesn’t mean he won’t fuck shit up!” Kazuichi argued. “I don’t want him around unless he’s tied up well and good!”  
  
“I agree that we can’t leave him unattended,” Hina concurred. “Until it’s decided that he doesn’t pose a threat to anyone, we’ll have him guarded at all times. Got it?”  
  
Everyone agreed to that, although Sonia looked a little less-than-pleased at the arrangement. Her eyes fluttered towards Gundham with affection and desire. That stung Kazuichi a little, but he forced himself to look away. Even as Ultimate Despair, Gundham fared a better chanced with the princess than he ever did.  
  
“I also think we should forbid him from entering the basement,” Hina continued. “Who knows what he could do to the others if he has unrestricted access to them.”  
  
That decision was also unanimous. Kazuichi didn’t want to think about Gundham randomly deciding to end the Remnants while they were unable to defend themselves.  
  
“Onto other things, now,” said Hina. “The last homework assignment didn’t exactly work out what with everything that happened. I’ve decided that we’re going to have a fresh start, and Hajime came up with a brilliant idea!”  
  
“Yeah, he’s just full of those,” Kazuichi joked.  
  
“Hajime and I have decided to implement a buddy system. Now that there’s six of you guys in total, there should be three pairs each.”       
  
“You’re shitting us, right?” Fuyuhiko snapped. “Do we look like kindergartners to you?”  
  
“Don’t be silly, Fuyuhiko. Your buddy will be your partner for any support group assignments that require them. They’ll be your partner, your confidante, your ally!”  
  
“Don’t tell me that Gundham’s included in that!” Kazuichi groaned. “I pity whoever has to be his buddy.”  
  
“Gundham’s a member of our group now, like it or not,” said Hina.  
  
“Whoever will be my ‘buddy’ will be the first to fall into despair’s waiting embrace,” said Gundham.  
  
“Not gonna happen,” Hina asserted. “Just because one person’s gonna be assigned to be Gundham’s buddy, it’s gonna be up to all of us to keep a close eye on him and make sure that he doesn’t give anyone any bright ideas, his buddy included. Now, since the last assignment didn't really work out, here’s a new group assignment: between now and the next meeting, I want you to get to know your buddy and tell the group three things about them that you didn’t know before.”  
  
“This is stupid,” said Fuyuhiko.  
  
“C’mon, it’ll be fun! It’s a team bonding exercise!”  
  
“Team bonding my ass!”  
  
“You. _Promised.”_  
  
Fuyuhiko muttered incomprehensibly.  
  
“Okay, then!” Hina smiled. “Now that we’re all in agreement, buddies will now be decided at random draw. Luckily, we’ve come prepared. Hajime, present the hat!”  
  
From out of no where, Hajime lifted up a beanie that Kazuichi immediately recognized as one of his. He opened his mouth to protest, but one firm look from Hina was enough to shut him up.  
  
“Okay, I’ve had Hajime write down all your names and put them into the hat,” said Hina. “Kaz, you draw first.”  
  
“Absolutely not,” Kazuichi declared. “I’m not gonna risk drawing Gundham’s name.”  
  
“Hurry up and pick your buddy already. Everyone’s eagerly awaiting their turn!”  
  
Nobody looked eager except for Sonia. Still, he realized that Hina wasn’t about to let him get away with it and, squeezing his eyes shut, he dug around the bottom of the hat. He felt several slips of paper crumbled up together and he took his time untangling one.  
  
Please don’t be Gundham—please don’t be Gundham— _please don’t be Gundham._  
  
Kazuichi pinched a slip of paper between his fingers and pulled it out. He read the name.  
  
Gundham.  
  
“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!” Kazuichi shouted.  
  
“I think we can guess who his buddy is,” said Fuyuhiko.  
  
“BUDDY?!” Kazuichi shrieked. He leapt to his feet and threw his arms up in the air. “Oh, that’s just rich! That’s just fucking _rich!_ Me! _Gundham’s buddy_! I demand a change of buddies!”  
  
“Sorry, Kaz, you’re committed now,” said Hina. She held the hat away from him as he tried to grab it.  
  
“THIS IS CRUEL AND UNUSUAL PUNISHMENT!”  
  
“Think of it as a chance to get to know each other!”  
  
“I know all I want to know about _him!”_  
  
To late. Hina was already moving on to Akane, who immediately plucked a name from the remaining batch.  
  
“I got Hajime,” she said.  
  
“Great,” Hina beamed. “That just leaves Fuyuhiko and Sonia. Is that okay with you two?”  
  
“I’m fine with it,” Fuyuhiko replied.  
  
“As am I,” said Sonia. “Together we will be most formidable partners!”  
  
“IS ANYONE LISTENING?!” Kazuichi shrieked. “I don’t wanna be Gundham’s buddy! I’m...I’m under qualified!”  
  
“At last, something we can agree upon,” Gundham mused.  
  
“Shut up!” Kazuichi exclaimed. “Don’t agree with me! I don’t want you to agree with anything I say!”  
  
“Don’t you think you’re being just a little bit dramatic?” Hina asked.  
  
“Dramatic?!” Kazuichi wailed, tugging at his hair. “I’ve been paired with an Ultimate Despair! I have the right to be dramatic!”  
  
“It’s not the end of the world, Kaz. Besides, it’s a good chance for you to become friends with Gundham!”  
  
“I DON’T WANNA BE HIS FRIEND! Can’t I be buddies with Hajime?!”  
  
“Hajime already has a buddy.”  
  
“I—I can share!”  
  
“Do not feel discouraged, Kazuichi,” Sonia cooed. “I know you and Gundham have struggled to get along in the past, but perhaps this is an ample opportunity to correct that.”  
  
Goddammit. Of all the times for Sonia to cut in. “But...But...”  
  
“You do wish to work together as a team, yes?”  
  
Just like that, his will crumbled. Dammit. He’d already promised himself that he wouldn’t slobber all over her, but in the deepest reaches of his heart Kazuichi felt that he’d already developed a post-crush soft spot when it came to Sonia. Something stirring between romantic and platonic, something swinging between desire and restraint. Sonia wasn’t about to let him get away with switching partners just because he’d just been paired up with his former romantic rival. The same smug, painted face that screamed I’m-much-better-than-you-at-anything.  
  
Of this, Kazuichi could be certain.  
  
There was absolutely.  
  
Unconditionally.  
  
 _Unequivocally._  
  
No way he would _ever_ be friends with Gundham- _Fucking_ -Tanaka.

* * *

 

Nightfall. His natural environment.  
  
The day had been prolonged and painful. Being forced to sit through Hina's 'support group' was terrible enough without her inspiring speech about comradeship and hope grating his patience. Gundham was thankful when the group had finally adjourned and Akane was placed on guard duty. Thankful—because she was the easiest to fool and the most likely to make a critical mistake, even more so than Kazuichi.  
  
It was midnight. He had waited until Akane dozed off before removing the restraints and depositing them on the kitchen floor. Akane had never been the best choice for guard duty. Gundham made a mental note that when he swayed her back to Junko's philosophies to never give her that kind of responsibility. It was far to easy to slip into the night unnoticed, as it would have been far too easy to kill her while she slumbered. But no matter the allure of an impromptu murder, Gundham restrained himself. There was a time and a place for mindless slaughter.  
  
Gundham walked out the back door and walked away from the house at a casual but brisk stride. When he was at the edge of the forest, he turned and examined the property properly for the first time since his awakening. If only he'd known that the Future Foundation had a secret outpost at this location—then they could have destroyed it. Albeit, it had served its purpose. It was just a little too scenic for his tastes. Too green, too open, too _happy_. He was all too relieved for a brief reprieve from its constraints.  
  
The meeting place had been established well out of earshot of Alter Ego and any other eavesdroppers. The felt that the AI presented the most significant risk to exposure. That was why they would need to be careful with their future plans. Any slip of the tongue would complicate matters. If word reached Makoto, it would set the whole Future Foundation on them, and the last time that had happened Junko's strategy crumbled. The spot in question was a distinctive boulder covered in moss less than a hundred yards from the house. From the viewpoint, Gundham could look over the entire Jabberwock settlement and the surrounding waters. A useful vantage point if ever there was an attack.  
  
However, his ally was not present. Gundham stood by the rock and peered into the darkness. If he had possession of his Zodiac Generals or the Four Dark Devas, then it would be a simple matter to send them into the night. But the others were cautious and kept the Four Dark Devas in a cage and far out of his reach.  
  
He would need to gain their trust before obtaining his most powerful allies.  
  
Gundham waited a few minutes, but as always his ally wasn't early or late—but right on time. He could hear them moving through the forest from the direction of the house, clearly not concealing their approach. If they wanted to sneak up on him, they would have done so.  
  
Gundham couldn't help himself. He laughed lowly and turned his face his ally. "Izuru Kamukura. You really do have them wrapped around your finger."  
  
Izuru emerged from the shadows, his red eyes flaring through the night. Gundham wasn't accustomed to him with short hair or not wearing his standard black suit and tie. But at least he wasn't pretending to experience any sensation aside from tedium. He didn't have to, not when he was with a fellow member of Ultimate Despair.  
  
Izuru joined him at the boulder and together they stared out over the settlement.  
  
"What a sickening sight," Gundham complained. "Shall we obliterate it?"  
  
Izuru paused and looked up, somewhere past the settlement and off to the dark horizon. "Boring."  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"What you're suggesting. Unless we increase our numbers, we won't be able to win against the Future Foundation. Where's the thrill in spreading despair when there's no possibility of an outcome in our favour? It's boring."  
  
"Tch, then I suppose we have no choice," Gundham frowned and folded his arms. "Returning the others to Lady Enoshima's ideologies may prove to be a difficult task, particularly with both the AI and Asahina watching our every move."  
  
"They will grow complacent with time," said Izuru. “Asahina has placed me in a position of power. It will make my task easier. Your mission is more straightforward."  
  
"If only it was less insipid. It pains me to be forced to listen to Aoi Asahina's hope-inspiring proclamations. If only I had my disciples with me, I would silence her in an instant!"  
  
"Just don't do anything impulsive."  
  
Gundham scoffed. "The Forbidden One is never impulsive. Let your analytical mind tell me this, Izuru. How long will it take to revive the others?"  
  
"If there are no complications, three months."  
  
"A precise estimate."  
  
"Precise enough that it puts us on a severe time limit. I hope you're feeling confident in your ability to sway the others to our cause. If you don't, they will be more of a liability than a help."  
  
"You doubt the persuasive power of Tanaka the Forbidden One?! If I cannot simply talk them into compliance then I will use my indomitable will to force them to submit!”  
  
An aside glance was all Gundham got from Izuru.  
  
"If you're smart, you won't brag," said Izuru. "You'll just do."  
  
"Patronizing as always," Gundham ridiculed. "I suppose it is fortunate Kazuichi is my so-called 'buddy.' He will be the easiest to sway. It's a pity that once he recalls his loyalty to Lady Enoshima he will lose his mind to despair and become as inarticulate as he was before the killing games began."  
  
"Articulate or not, it's fortunate that Kazuichi survived. In the event that I'm unable to revive the others, his talent will be invaluable to regain a foothold."  
  
"So there is a possibility that the others have been lost to the void."  
  
"A slim possibility," Izuru admitted. "However, thanks to my luck, the more relevant members of Ultimate Despair have survived. We will need Sonia and Fuyuhiko's influence to effectively proceed with our plans. Akane is probably expendable, but her presence in combat may be useful.”  
  
Gundham sneered. Enough was enough. "I want an explanation."  
  
"Why do you Ultimate Despairs always come to me for explanations?" Izuru asked.  
  
"I'm surprised you're this invested in our cause after everything that has happened."  
  
"I'm part of Ultimate Despair."  
  
"Undoubtedly, yes. I have seen your work and give much praise to it. However..much like Nagito, you have always been an outsider. You have always entertained your own agenda and existed on the fringe. You forged your own path whether the Future Foundation stood in your way or not. There were times when the others and I questioned your loyalty to Lady Enoshima, but I sense that there has been a change. I demand an explanation to our attitude."  
  
"You don't trust me."  
  
"I do not trust anyone who holds the title 'Ultimate Hope.' Lady Enoshima had confidence in you, but she is now dead. Defend yourself, Kamukura. What is so fascinating that you are now bent on assisting Ultimate Despair?”  
  
Izuru was difficult to analyze. Difficult to understand. A force that wasn't even quite human anymore, that had transcended to a level situated right between the rest of them and Junko Enoshima. The Izuru Gundham had known was much different than the Izuru standing before him. His look lasered into only the approximation of a human, like a person who had only seen pictures of how people looked and was only trying to imitate one. Izuru studied his face. Lips tight. Eyes systematic, professional, and curt.  
  
Whatever Izuru was actually feeling, it was a well-buried emotion that Gundham couldn't possibly hope to discern through observation alone.  
  
"I was testing to see which was more interesting: hope or despair," said Izuru. "Our experience in the Neo World Program gave me an answer."  
  
It took a split-second hesitation for Gundham to recover. He hadn't expected an answer so straightforward. "And what was the answer?"  
  
"Neither. It's the conflict that was interesting.”  
  
Betrayal and realization competed for Gundham's attention. His mind spun. His body remained motionless.  
  
"You feel that I've betrayed Ultimate Despair, but for there to be a betrayal I would have had to care about Junko's cause to begin with," said Izuru. "Junko's just a footnote. All forms of her have been destroyed and all that's left is the memory of a dangerous person. I'm curious to see how dangerous this particular memory becomes, especially for Ultimate Despair. Will Asahina's pupils fall or will they rise above our efforts and claim their independence?"  
  
Gundham curled his hands into fists. "I will never let Lady Enoshima's memory die."  
  
"You'll have the opportunity to prove that," said Izuru. He shifted and focused on Gundham. "Hope is on the verge of winning. In order for this world to maintain my attention, it needs to be fuelled with despair. You, Gundham Tanaka, can rest assured that I will be a part of Ultimate Despair until I'm satisfied. In actuality...I am more concerned about your loyalty.”  
  
"You—You _dare_ question my devotion to Lady Enoshima?!"  
  
"I dare question how deep that devotion goes. Regardless of whether you're swayed to one side or the other, I won't allow you to interfere with my plans."  
  
What idiocy. "That's a threat."  
  
"Ah. You worded that as a statement. Then you understand my meaning."  
  
Izuru didn't bother hiding his true meaning that time. He fixed on Gundham with the concentration of a predatory bird.  
  
"Follow my orders and you live long enough to spread all the despair you want to," said Izuru. "However, if you defect or interfere, then I'll be forced to act. Perhaps you'll share the same fate of Chisa Yukizome."  
  
"You don't need to concern yourself with any of that," said Gundham. "I am only concerned with despair. Nothing else matters to me."  
  
Izuru watched him out of the corner of his eye. "We will see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, sorry for the long wait but I hope you enjoyed reading this new instalment! <3 And of course, now that the anime has ended, here are my thoughts on it overall:
> 
> I really enjoyed it!
> 
> That isn’t to say that I think that there are flaws in the story, but as a whole it was really enjoyable, especially to someone familiar with the Danganronpa series. It was so great to see the Children animated in all their glory, even if they didn’t get as much screen time as I was actually hoping for. It was also wonderful to see Junko in action since, in retrospect, it’s not often that we get to see a whole lot of Danganronpa’s favourite baddie actually do something on screen. That, and seeing Mukuro animated without a disguise was just the bee’s knees.
> 
> Although Danganronpa 3 as a whole won’t adversely affect AADRP and actually fuelled many of the plot elements, there is one major plot point that I’m going to deviate from.
> 
> There is absolutely no way I can accept that Junko indoctrinated the 77th class with one video.
> 
> I understand that this is a canon plot point. I believe that it was foreshadowed to, implied, mentioned, etc. enough in Danganronpa 2 to accept it as canon. However, that doesn’t mean that I agree with it, and here are my reasons why:
> 
> 1.) It makes Junko a less effective villain. Junko is one of the best baddies I’ve ever encountered in fiction. She’s manipulative, analytical, and charismatic. Her evilness is unmatched. However, the video immediately diminishes her charm and wit to the equivalent of a Saturday morning cartoon villain. I do not think it was out of her reach to be able to individually indoctrinate the 77th class to her will using only her wit, charm, and their weaknesses to her advantage. I’ve seen some people claim that she doesn’t have the patience to slowly get the 77th class under her control, but that’s bullshit. Junko had the patience to meticulously plan the end of the world and the killing games. She’s not nearly as scatterbrained as she’d like us to think.
> 
> 2.) It destroys the possibility of complex relationships between the 77th class and Junko. I’ve always been fascinated by Junko’s relationship with the 77th class ever since it was revealed that they used to be her servants. The video makes their relationship cheap and it makes Danganronpa’s story much less interesting.
> 
> This is not to say that I don’t think that the video has relevance. In fact, it’s the only way I can think of that she could have used to get the Reserve Course students to commit mass suicide and it’s canon that she does use brainwashing to some degree to get large amounts of people under her control. But do I think that she used it on the 77th class? The answer is no. I don’t think she did. I’m blocking out memory of that part of the anime because I refuse to accept that it was that fucking easy. Sorry, DR3. But I think you’re wrong!
> 
> There’s also the matter of the implication that Izuru wasn’t even a direct part of Ultimate Despair. I call bullshit. He is unambiguously a part of Ultimate Despair because that is much cooler than this ambitious ‘He’s not that bad’ thing.
> 
> I’m not saying you guys have to agree with me, but for Aoi Asahina’s Despair Rehabilitation Program, these are the facts:
> 
> 1.) Junko didn’t use her brainwash video to get the 77th class under her control. She got to know them and got them under her control one-by-one by using their weaknesses and her incredible intelligence.
> 
> 2.) She did, however, use brainwashing videos on the masses (and our lovely Chisa) and used the suicide video to kill the Reserve Course. So Ryota still done fucked up.
> 
> 3.) Izuru is a member of Ultimate Despair and did some pretty shitty things. He’s not ambiguously evil, he actually is as evil as the rest of Ultimate Despair.
> 
> And that’s what I think of the Danganronpa 3 anime. Anyways, thanks for reading and supporting this story, guys! I hope me stubbornly refusing to accept canon won’t turn you off or anything. It’s just my silly little opinion so I hope nobody gets their knickers in a knot.
> 
> And thank you you guys…Thank you so much for supporting this story. You’ve all been so patient waiting for this new chapter and I really appreciate it.


	7. A Feast for Ultimate Despair

**PAST**

It was a feast worthy of Ultimate Despair.  
  
Spread out before Kazuichi were reminders of the era before the Tragedy. Of course, his before-Junko memories were just scattered thoughts caught in a spiderweb, steadily encased and devoured and digested and destroyed. Just an oblivion of too-loud voices and lost aspirations—a world with blue skies, forced smiles, and unpleasant background noise. A world where he'd been an ant in an anthill caught in a death march towards his doom, where he hadn't thought to protest until he'd been squashed by godlike forces beyond his command. So it was strange. It was just so strange and surreal to see a feast before him like everything was normal.  
  
Not even the sweet taste of despair could compete with the simmering banquet laid out across the scarlet tablecloth. Roasted turkey, baked potatoes, rice balls, sponge cake with strawberries and whipped cream—everything that sounded like it belonged in the old cartoons he’d watched as a kid. The ones where families gathered around to celebrate some grand occasion or holiday, laughing and joyous. How quaint that the vision of the ideal family was nothing more than cinders. It was pretty sad that most of the chairs at the long table were empty. The irony was not lost on him—and Kazuichi belatedly became aware that he was laughing.  
  
“What’s so funny?”  
  
Kazuichi’s attention jerked. Across the table and a few seats down, Mahiru Koizumi was pouring over photographs spread out across her sitting place.  
  
“Do you have to bring work to dinner?” Kazuichi nagged her.  
  
“The Tragedy doesn’t take a holiday,” Mahiru fumed. “Junko wants the new propaganda shots on the internet by tomorrow.”  
  
“Got anything good?”  
  
“Nothing’s good enough for Junko; these are just leftovers.”  
  
“Need a second opinion?”  
  
“You’re not worth a first opinion, Kazuichi.”  
  
Kazuchi cackled the type of cackle that made his skin peel from his bones, ripe with uncontrollable emotions smothering whatever rationality and reason remained. Just disconsolate laughing where fingers clawed on the inside of his skull in an attempt to escape.  
  
A low voice wreathed around him, as unfeeling as a snake. “This is boring.”  
  
Mahiru rolled her eyes magnificently. “Here we go again.”  
  
Izuru Kamukura, who sat at the head of his table, had his arms folded. “Birthdays are boring. They’re so predictable. They come around at the same time every year…and every time you grow one year older. That’s hardly something to celebrate.”  
  
“Friendly reminder that you weren’t invited,” Mahiru snapped. “Whose birthday are we celebrating anyways?”  
  
“Who cares?” Kazuichi asked, leaning back and putting his feet on the table. “As long as Teruteru’s cooking, does it matter?”  
  
“Seems like a lot of trouble what with the food shortages and all. It’s getting late, too. I don’t think anyone else is coming.”  
  
Mahiru spoke far too soon. At the exact moment she finished talking, the double doors leading into the banquet hall thrust open, and a long shadow was cast on the table.  
  
“TREMBLE BEFORE ME!” a baritone voice boomed. “TANAKA THE FORBIDDEN ONE HAS GRACED YOU WITH HIS PRESENCE!”  
  
“Oh, fuck me,” Kazuichi groaned. “Of all the people to get to this party, it just had to be you.”  
  
“Do not test me, Impertinent One,” Gundham barked. He walked—or rather, wobbled—towards the table. “I have had my fill of the blood of mortals for today and presently have no desire to inflict grievous bodily harm.”  
  
As the light caught Gundham’s face, it was then apparent what he meant. There wasn’t an inch of skin that wasn’t bruised or bloody in some way. Thick lacerations crisscrossed his pale skin; Kazuichi recognized that they’d come from a knife.  
  
“Dude, your face!” Kazuichi marvelled. “I think it’s an improvement.”  
  
“Silence, Impertinent One,” Gundham said. He took a seat at the table. “I come bearing the scars of battle. I should be rewarded, not chastised.”  
  
“What happened?” Mahiru asked.  
  
“Was it the Future Foun-dorks?” Kazuichi questioned.  
  
“We should be so lucky,” Gundham huffed. “Peko and I had to recover Fuyuhiko. He did not come quietly.”  
  
“You had to recover him?” Mahiru repeated. “Where was he?”  
  
“Alas, the true question here is not where Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu was, but what he was doing.” Gundham peered at them all, his brow casting a shadow over his eyes as if he was imparting some dark secret. “Fuyuhiko attempted to desert us. He betrayed our Lady Enoshima.”  
  
Mahiru blinked. “We’re…talking about the same Fuyuhiko, right? About so high? Swears a lot?”  
  
“The very one.”  
  
“Y—You’re kidding, right? You’re sure he attempted to desert?”  
  
“He confessed to having that intention.”  
  
“Geez. Did you kill him or what?”  
  
“Lady Enoshima gave Peko and me specific instructions to be him back alive,” Gundham lightly dabbed at his cuts and bruises with a napkin. “…However, I do not know when he had the time to plant those car bombs.”  
  
“I take it he didn’t have the guts to try to kill Peko.”  
  
“It is only thanks to her that we were able to retrieve him at all. I expect Lady Enoshima will want to personally deal with this situation.”  
  
“Shit, I guess that means her sneaking out of the Academy,” Mahiru sighed. “I really wish she wouldn’t take risks like that. That’s what we’re here for.”  
  
“You think she’ll let me test an execution on Fuyuhiko?” Kazuichi asked eagerly.  
  
“It is unlikely that she will kill him, you fool,” said Gundham. “Fuyuhiko has merely lost his way. He will soon regret his actions.”  
  
“What set him off?” Mahiru wondered. “I talked to him just a few days ago and he seemed fine.”  
  
“His motivations should not concern us,” Gundham pointed out. "No amount of excuses could justify such blatant betrayal of our Lady. She will see that he is appropriately punished.”  
  
Kazuichi let out a theatrical groan. “How long are we gonna talk about work? I thought this was supposed to be a party!”  
  
“Not much of a party with only the five of us,” said Mahiru. “As Izuru over there would put it, it’s boring.”  
  
The door to the kitchen burst open, and in rolled Teruteru with the main course. Kazuichi leapt up and scrambled over to the trolley.  
  
“Did someone call my latest creation boring?” Teruteru demanded. “You haven’t even tasted it yet!”  
  
“I didn’t say that it was gonna be boring!” Kazuichi argued. “I know anything you made has to be delicious!”  
  
It was the fattest roast he’d ever seen, and a scarcity in a world enveloped in the glorious Tragedy. Kazuichi’s growling stomach outweighed all other senses, and he was quick to dig in.  
  
The meat tasted strange. It had an overpowering taste—bitter, but strong and savoury. Of course, since Teruteru had gotten his hands on it, Kazuichi felt like the entire Tragedy had been worth it just to taste that one meal. If he was to die tomorrow, then at least he got to taste one last, award-winning meal by Teruteru Hanamura.  
  
While he’d been occupied with the food, the others had encircled the trolley and started to help themselves to their meal, sampling everything as they went along. There was a quiet resignation hanging about—the atmosphere significantly dampened by the absence of their comrades—and that of their esteemed leader. Kazuichi’s heart clenched with jealousy at the thought of Junko spending time with her not-friends in the Hope’s Peak shelter, a false smile planted on her face and the disgusting stench of hope in the air.  
  
“Y’know, Teruteru, you still haven’t told us whose birthday we’re celebrating,” said Mahiru.  
  
“It’s my mother’s birthday,” Teruteru answered. An aimless smile stretched across his face.  
  
“Ugh, is that the purpose of this asinine ceremony?” Gundham groused. “I, for one, have already disposed of my remaining blood.”  
  
“Aw, c’mon,” Kazuichi giggled. “You tellin’ me that the Great Overlord of Ice is too good to feel a tiny bit of satisfaction when you killed your family?”  
  
“I never had a family. The people I slaughtered were mere apparitions from my mortal life—that and nothing more.”  
  
“You keep telling yourself that! But we all know just how despair-inducing it really was for you. You can’t feel despair over something you didn’t care about at one point or another, right? Right?”  
  
“May I remind you that you have yet to dispose of your blood ties, Kazuichi Soda.”  
  
“Hey! I’m waiting for the right time. My execution machine isn’t ready yet.”  
  
“And you dally at this function instead of completing it.”  
  
“Shut it, Tanaka! Just you wait! When I’m ready to kill my parents, you’re invited! You’re gonna sit in the front row and see just how despair-inducing it really is—even if I have to tie you to your seat!”  
  
“The Forbidden One cannot be bound!”  
  
“Ladies, you done fighting?” Mahiru asked. She turned to Teruteru. “They have a point, though. If you don’t want the others to think that you’re having second thoughts, just kill your mom already. Or did you invite us here so we could do it for you?”  
  
Teruteru was still smiling. He’d been smiling the whole time, and the smile seemed broader now. Much broader. Much more malicious. Much more everything.  
  
The silence that followed was one that followed the revelation of an embarrassing secret. From his position, Kazuichi could see everyone’s reactions. He could see Izuru peer up—the first spark of interest tugging at his attention. Mahiru examined the slab of meat she’d taken a bite out of. Gundham—the consummate vegetarian—folded his arms and didn't look the least bit surprised. He could see Teruteru's grin exploded with the force of a supernova.  
  
Finally, Mahiru's eyes widened like someone had just smacked the back of her head and she couldn't quite muster a response.  
  
“...Oh,” she said.  
  
There was someone laughing long and hard, and Kazuichi realized that it was him. He was the one laughing. And somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, something inside recoiled in horror—and it was a voice he snuffed out of existence like blowing out a candle. There was nothing to be gained from that voice, as it was just an apparition of his mortal life—just like Gundham had suggested. It was a voice caught in Junko's spiderweb and there would be no need to listen to it anymore.  
  
Kazuichi sank his serrated teeth into the meat.

* * *

 

**PRESENT**

“What’s the prognosis?”  
  
Kazuichi snorted. “The prognosis is that for a machine, you don’t know too much about machines.”  
  
Alter Ego’s perpetually floating head gave a soft laugh. Kazuichi wasn’t sure that the guy understood that he’d just taken a jab at his pride.  
  
The chamber where the pods containing his comatose classmates was much friendlier now that Gundham had safely been removed. Kazuichi pulled himself out from the computer console where the communications system was accessed, while Alter Ego looked on from the monitor and Hina sat backward in the office chair.  
  
“So what’s wrong with it?” Hina asked.  
  
“Well, obviously,” Kazuichi snorted. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose; he was trying to save his contacts and would have to endure them for the time being. “Your communications array is a piece of crap. I’ve been meaning to upgrade it actually.”  
  
Hina gave him a blank look. “You could’ve mentioned something, y’know.”  
  
Kazuichi shrugged. “It’s been a weird week.”  
  
She didn’t argue with that. “So when can you upgrade it? Will it be hard?”  
  
“Hard? Nah. Getting the right kind of parts is the hard part, to be honest. Your communications array looks like a five-year-old put it together.”  
  
“There wasn’t much when Makoto, Kyoko, and Byakuya got here with you guys. I think they had to improvise a lot.”  
  
“That would explain why it’s crap. Look, she needs the right part or it just won’t work—not the regular old stuff you could scavenge from the settlement. Like—in the settlement, you could probably find old radios or something. That won't do. This is Future Foundation tech we’re talking about, so we need some serious high-quality gear. What I need are some military grade circuit boards or something, maybe a robot I can take apart.”  
  
“There’s not a lot of that going around. I guess we could take a trip to the local black market, but it’d cost a lot of money.”  
  
Kazuichi sighed. “This would be much easier to fix in the simulation. I could just grab some stuff from the electronics shop, or—or take apart one of the animatronics at Monokuma’s stupid amusement park. I don’t suppose those places were based on something in reality?”  
  
“Let’s just say that Chihiro—and Monokuma—took some creative liberties,” Hina answered. “There are ruins on the other island, but we’d need a boat to get to them and the local fishermen don’t like going out that far. They think the other islands are haunted or something.”  
  
“Couldn’t you swim over?”  
  
“What good would that do? It’s not like I can bring electronics back through the water. I don’t even know what I’d be looking for.”  
  
“Just pick the fanciest toaster oven you find?”  
  
“Yeah…I don’t think that’ll work.”  
  
“It was worth a shot.”  
  
Kazuichi left the console in disarray and he and Hina climbed out of the cellar feeling more despondent than they’d had when they’d entered. Standing in the afternoon sun, the peace was deceiving.  
  
“I guess I’ll go out scavenging,” said Kazuichi. “If I’m lucky I can grab some stuff from the settlement.”  
  
“Why not take Gundham with you?” Hina asked.  
  
“Not this again. I’ve told you! He’s not my buddy.”  
  
“C’mon, I think it’ll be good that you and Gundham spend some together. It could help work out your…issues…with each other.”  
  
“I don’t have an issue with him! I don’t even care about him!”  
  
“Be that as it may, I don’t see you two working very hard to complete your assignment.”  
  
“To complete that assignment, the Forbidden One and I would have to be friends. We’re not.”  
  
Hina clapped her hands on her hips. “Kazuichi Soda! You and Gundham are buddies whether you like it or not! Now go get Gundham and scavenge something!”  
  
“Okay, okay!” Kazuichi put up his hands defensively. “Sheesh…”  
  
Kazuichi returned to the house and headed up the stairs to the boys’ bedroom. He'd last seen Gundham there, safely handcuffed and Hajime keeping a vigil over him. However, once he reached for the doorknob, he hesitated. An ice cold chill swept through him. It was a feeling of dread—and not just because he had to interact with Gundham.  
  
His mother had been a whole-hearted believer in the occult. Claimed that she woke up sweating in the middle of the night, head throbbing, fingers clenching, in a full-blown panic because a premonition had hit her. Sometimes she would charge into the room with an unmistakable look somewhere along the lines of your-dad’s-about-to-come-home-and-he’s-mean-drunk. She would pull out tarot cards and crystal balls and ask strangers about their blood type, all superstitious nonsense that had seen her on the wrong end of Mr Soda’s hand more than once.  
  
It was a lifestyle choice.  
  
Kazuichi had never really related to her superstition, but all the same, the two of them always been allies—forever united against the one-man-army that was Mr Soda. He thought of her in that moment, wondering if it was just a coincidence or if her so-called premonitions were genetic.  
  
He propped open the door. Since Gundham had moved in, it had become even more cramped than before—and it was little more than a ransacked battleground of dirty laundry, personal possessions, and reminders of the old world. Nobody was there, but that didn't concern him. Hajime probably had Gundham somewhere else. No, Kazuichi’s heart didn’t sink until he saw a pair of handcuffs lying loose on the bedside table.  
  
It was something that warranted screaming. That’s what Kazuichi did. He screamed.  
  
“HE’S ESCAPED!” Kazuichi shrieked. “HE’S PROBABLY KILLED HAJIME! ONE MORNING WE’LL WAKE UP AND FIND THAT THE ANIMALS HAVE TAKEN OVER!”  
  
The shouting had the desired effect. The sound of a door wrenching open. Light footsteps. Sonia appearing at the door.  
  
“Pray tell, why are you shouting?” Sonia asked.  
  
“Gundham’s escaped!” Kazuichi repeated. “He’s gonna have the animals take over and make us all turn vegetarian! I’VE EATEN A LOT OF BURGERS!”  
  
Sonia furrowed her brow and looked at the handcuffs before comprehension dawned on her delicate features. “Oh! There is no need for concern, Kazuichi. Gundham is in my room.”  
  
Even worse. “W…What’s he doing in your room? Is he in handcuffs?!”  
  
Kazuichi didn’t wait for a response. He hurried across the hall to the girls’ room.  
  
He found Gundham sitting on the frilly bench that matched Sonia’s vanity table. Before him was the spacious cage Sonia had set up for his hamsters, and it was through the bars that he was looking at the Four Dark Devas of Destruction.  
  
Gundham was unbound.  
  
“Speak in dulcet tones, Kazuichi,” Gundham instructed. “Too much excitement will force the Four Dark Devas to metamorphize into their final form! None of us would survive such an event.”  
  
“W—Why isn’t he in handcuffs?” Kazuichi squeaked.  
  
“Gundham asked me to remove them,” said Sonia.  
  
“Why would you do that?! He’s dangerous!”  
  
“Only to our enemies,” Gundham interjected before Sonia could answer. “I believe Fuyuhiko already informed you of my intentions. As repugnant as this location is, I shall not waver from the quest bestowed upon me. I have no desire to bring bodily harm to anyone here—not even Asahina—nor do I desire to leave. I would not be able to make significant progress without the Future Foundation catching wind of a lone Ultimate Despair. No, for the time being…it is safer for the future of our cause that I remain here.”  
  
“He seemed sincere,” Sonia added.  
  
Not good enough. Kazuichi seized Sonia’s forearm and dragged her into the hall.  
  
“Are you nuts?” he hissed. “Hina made it clear that we shouldn’t let him go for any reason.”  
  
“Come now, he has nowhere else to go and he has already established that he has no desire to harm us,” Sonia insisted. “His story has remained consistent and I do not think it morally righteous to leave him bound all the time. We have nowhere else we can safely imprison him.”  
  
Kazuichi’s brain twitched. The same kind of post-crush twitch he felt whenever he sensed he was about to defer to Sonia. Nonetheless, when it came to Gundham, he had to stay firm; for Sonia’s sake as well as everyone else’s.  
  
“Ultimate Despairs are perfect liars,” said Kazuichi. “He just wants to seem sympathetic.”  
  
“I am not claiming that he has done no wrong,” Sonia replied. “Gundham has made his allegiances perfectly clear, but I do not think that anything is gained through keeping him handcuffed all the time. We cannot hope to reform him if we do not display some level of trust.”  
  
“So you trust him?”  
  
Sonia looked at with the same dead-eyed evenness he vaguely recalled seeing when she was Ultimate Despair. Then the flicker of a long-dead emotion evaporated and she was back to her normal self again.  
  
“To an extent, but not entirely,” she admitted.  
  
Kazuichi massaged his forehead. “Look, just be careful, okay?”  
  
Gundham’s unmistakable laugh warbled through the air. “If you truly wish to be careful, then kill me.”  
  
Gundham had moved to lean against the doorframe, raking over them with his penetrating glare. Even though his eye was swollen from his broken eye socket, he was still infinitely patronizing.  
  
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” Kazuichi snapped. “And you better get ready to get those cuffs back on. Hina wants me to take you scavenging.”  
  
“So you fear me?” Gundham asked. “That is a wise strategy.”  
  
“S—Shut up! I’m not afraid of you!”  
  
Kazuichi ducked back into the boys’ bedroom, fetched the handcuffs, and put Gundham back in them. To his credit, the Ultimate Breeder didn’t resist—although he rolled his eyes.  
  
“Mortal binds cannot hold me!” Gundham declared.  
  
“If you’re gonna keep talking, I’ll gag you,” Kazuichi threatened. He turned to Sonia. “Look, uh…just think about what I said, okay? I don’t want to see him manipulate you. And I totally mean this in a totally-platonic way—I’m not trying to be creepy or anything.”  
  
“Thank you for the concern, Kazuichi,” said Sonia. “But please trust me. I know what I’m doing.”  
  
“I—I’m not denying that, I just—never mind. I’m—I’m just gonna leave. With him. And…uh…yeah. I’m going now.”  
  
Kazuichi seized Gundham by the arm and dragged him down the stairs, out the door, and into the tropical breeze. He was all too happy to leave the house—and Sonia—behind. As hard as he was trying to keep his distance from her, it was difficult to do when they were all living in such tight quarters. Even if he did have to take Gundham on a scavenging trip, it would give him a much-needed break from trying to give her space.  
  
As they headed down the driveway and towards the main road, he sensed Gundham watching him. Kazuichi looked to the side to confirm his suspicions—and low and behold, Gundham was unwavering.  
  
“Stop staring at me,” Kazuichi ordered. “I really don’t want to go to the trouble of gagging and blindfolding you. Well, I do—but Hina might kill me if I try.”  
  
“Where exactly are we going?” Gundham asked in a you’re-completely-wasting-my-time tone.  
  
“I already told you: we’re going scavenging. The communications array is completely shot and I need parts, not that I’ll come up with any good ones on this goddamn island. If you go haywire or something, we’re gonna need that thing to contact Makoto.”  
  
“Tch, what ineptitude. You are resolved to cast your voices across the fathomless ocean, where nothing dwells but the sorrows of his doleful plain of existence. You’re met with silence. Yet instead of exploiting every possible means to make yourselves heard, you sit here and lament that you do not have the courage to fully take advantage of this island’s resources. There are countless solutions to the problem—yet you only consider the ethical methods. The methods that do not require the deaths of civilians. The boring methods.”  
  
“Shut it, psycho! Going out and massacring the whole island won’t fix the communications array.”  
  
“It would, however, draw the attention of the Future Foundation. Once they arrived, we could then dispose of them and hijack the supplies they brought with them.”  
  
“That’s exactly what we don’t want.”  
  
“It would be an effective means to strike a bitter blow against the Foundation. It has been too long since we have displayed a show of force.”  
  
“Oh, brother. Are you gonna keep going on about this?”  
  
“No, but like you, I want to make this trip short and painless,” Gundham continued. “If you insist on being ‘ethical,’ I do know of a place on this island that would provide the resources you so desperately long for.”  
  
“Ugh, I highly doubt anything you know about’s gonna be useful.”  
  
Gundham gave him a wicked smile, the type that curled Kazuichi’s toes just by looking at it. “I believe that you will change your mind once you hear what I have to say.”  
  
Kazuichi stopped dead in his tracks. He glanced back in the direction of the house, then at Gundham. Was he being serious or was this just a play at manipulation?  
  
“Ultimate Despair established a bunker here shortly after the Future Foundation created their own base of operations,” said Gundham. “Our subordinates—the pawns who Ultimate Despair conscripted to populate our army—were charged with supplying it, so I do not know the full extent of its contents. I do know that it is filled with riches and instruments of war. Interested?”  
  
“T—That’s not possible,” said Kazuichi. “You’re lying. Hina said that Jabberwock Island was abandoned during the Tragedy.”  
  
“The plan to send us into the false paradise and liberate our mistress was conceived long before we were even captured by the Future Foundation,” Gundham insisted. “We knew that if it was successful then we, as Lady Enoshima's pawns, would require supplies. That is why the bunker was established here.”  
  
“Fuck you! It’s just not possible! Maybe Ultimate Despair planned the whole revive-Junko thing, but there’s no way we—er, they could’ve known that Makoto would take us to Jabberwock Island.”  
  
“You underestimate our intelligence forces,” said Gundham. “We weren’t just terrorists. We were a righteous army doing our Lady’s bidding. Nary a whisper escapes from the attention of Ultimate Despair. We have an agent on every corner. An ear to every door. A sympathizer in every faction.”  
  
Kazuichi folded his arms, turned from Gundham, and stared at the ground.  
  
“If you’re done with your theatrics and resistance, I can tell you the precise location of the bunker,” said Gundham. “On the condition that you release me.”  
  
“So you can attack me or run away?” Kazuichi snorted. “How about you show me this bunker first, then I’ll decide.”  
  
Gundham analyzed him. “Very well. I agree to your terms.”  
  
“…You do?”  
  
“If this is the only way to acquire your trust, then yes. I cannot stitch together the Remnants of Despair without a few concessions.”  
  
Kazuichi shifted his weight from one foot to the other, quick and fitful like he’d had one too many cups of coffee. Trust Gundham or not. Typically his answer would be ‘not.’ But if Gundham was telling the truth and there was a bunker on the island, Kazuichi didn’t like the thought of leaving it unattended. Ignoring it would be turning the other cheek, it would mean that Gundham would have an advantage, it would mean leaving God-knows-what lying in wait to ambush them from the shadows. If it was a weapons stockpile, then as a former Ultimate Despair, it was their responsibility to safely dispose of it. To make sure that the Tragedy wasn’t extended and that something he’d created wouldn’t kill anyone else.  
  
Inaction was as terrible as action. Kazuichi realized that he wouldn’t be able to ignore its existence and that he needed Gundham to lead him to it. If he wanted to play it like a game, then so be it.  
  
“Fine,” Kazuichi agreed. “Lead the way.”

* * *

 

Gundham’s bunker was about a half-hour walk down the shoreline, past the ruins of a lighthouse and other amenities overgrown by the jungle, down the remains of the main road, and at the end of a makeshift dirt path leading about a quarter up the hillside. Kazuichi forced Gundham to walk in front of him and never took his eyes off of the back of his head. Any minute now, he could turn and attack him, and Kazuichi wasn’t going to let the guy get the upper hand a second time.  
  
Of course, it was only when Gundham indicated that they were only a short way from the bunker when it occurred to Kazuichi that he wasn't armed and had no hope of defeating Gundham in single combat.  
  
Well, shit.  
  
Kazuichi quickly took inventory of what he had on him that he could use as a weapon. The switchblade was back at the house. The only thing on him that could be used was his flashlight—a cumbersome, metallic object that could probably deliver a good blow. Kazuichi hovered his hand over the pocket where he kept it, wondering if Gundham would make a move when they arrived outside of the bunker or when they were in it.  
  
Why the hell hadn’t he brought Akane or Fuyuhiko along? Or anyone, for that matter.  
  
Definitely not one of his smartest decisions. He made a mental note to tell someone where he was going in the future.  
  
At long last, Gundham came to a halt.  
  
“Behold, the glory of Ultimate Despair!” he exclaimed.  
  
Kazuichi peered around him. A little further up the path and partially concealed by bushes was a steel door wrapped in a stone doorframe. It had a militaristic look about it, but he didn’t see any external defences.  
  
“That’s it?” Kazuichi blurted out. “I was expecting something...a little more dramatic.”  
  
“That would have attracted unwanted attention to our activities here,” said Gundham. “Shall we proceed?”  
  
Gundham approached the bunker before Kazuichi could reply. The door was locked by a keypad.  
  
“I...do not know the password,” Gundham admitted.  
  
“We came all this way and you don’t know the password,” Kazuichi scoffed. “Figures. Can we go now?”  
  
“Silence. I shall summon metaphysical forces to temporarily grant me powers of premonition, so that I may open this portal. Stand back!”  
  
“I was standing back anyways, but okay.”  
  
Kazuichi took an additional step back. Gundham threw his arms into the air.  
  
“CELESTIAL BEINGS, HEAR ME AND OBEY!” Gundham shouted. “I, Tanaka the Forbidden One, compel you to open this portal!”  
  
Nothing happened except a few seconds of awkward silence. Kazuichi scratched his chin.  
  
“Y’know, that just sounds like a fancy way of saying ‘open sesame,’” Kazuichi remarked.  
  
“It is not my fault!” Gundham exclaimed. “The Four Dark Devas have been separated from me. Without their divine intervention, my influence on the mortal plain is limited.”  
  
“So in other words, Tanaka the Forbidden One can’t open a fucking door.”  
  
“SILENCE! It is coming back to me...the Celestial Beings have revealed the passcode!”  
  
Tanaka punched in a series of numbers, to which the lock answered with a beep and a red light.  
  
“That didn’t work,” Kazuichi pointed out.  
  
“I hadn’t noticed,” said Gundham voice dripping with sarcasm.  
  
“Then it’s a good thing I pointed it out to you. Hey, try using Junko’s birthday.”  
  
“The passcode would not be something so obvious.”  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake—I can’t stand to see a poor animal suffer. Just let me give a shot.”  
  
Kazuichi shoved Gundham aside and punched in Junko’s birthday. At once, the lights above the keypad glowed green.  
  
“Heh, what’dya know?” Kazuichi chuckled. “That was the passcode after all. I’ll have to remember that in case we come across any more of these.”  
  
It was Gundham who grabbed the door handle and yanked it open.  
  
At once, they were struck with the stench of stale air. The concentrated reek of gunpowder was noticeable at once: arid and unforgettable even when Kazuichi suffered from a mild case of amnesia. In the rectangle of light, he could see dark shapes—massive growths of his old life presented before him like a feast. A feast fit for Ultimate Despair, on a silver platter, dressed with the finest spices, waiting to be devoured.  
  
Gundham reached around the door and, with a flick, florescent lights came on overhead. Kazuichi’s heart constricted.  
  
Gundham hadn’t been lying.  
  
The bunker was small but filled to the brim with a small arsenal. Guns, rocket launchers, and ammunition stacked up on shelves. Larger weapons—ones that Kazuichi couldn’t even make any sense of—filling the open space. Then there was one shelf with canned food. Another with bottled water. There was even an old television on a trolley, the kind he’d used to scavenge from junk yards. Enough supplies to last a small, one-man siege; maybe Izuru’s siege, an imaginary battle that had never happened. All ready for that one moment when Ultimate Despair made its last stand on a broken leg, prepared to go down with its ideological beliefs.  
  
While Kazuichi stood frozen in the doorway, Gundham sauntered in like he’d just come home from work.  
  
“At last!” Gundham grinned malevolently. “The treasure trove is ours! Ultimate Despair will destroy the world again! Now—release me from my bonds, Kazuichi Soda.”  
  
Kazuichi wasn’t able to respond right away. When he did, he said, “No.”  
  
“Are—Are you betraying me? You gave me your word!”  
  
“No way,” said Kazuichi. “With all this stuff lying around? I’m not letting you go anywhere near it. No—we're going back to the house. We’re gonna get the others and we’re gonna get rid of all this shit. I dunno! Have a gun-burning party or something.”  
  
Gundham went very still. “You are making a serious miscalculation.”  
  
“The only miscalculation I made was coming here alone with you!”  
  
“…So be it.”  
  
Gundham sprung. Some well-buried instinct, some sliver of determination to not be a victim again, surfaced within Kazuichi. Emotions surged through him that he didn't know he was capable of having: disgust, rage, and most surprisingly a sense of betrayal. The kind of betrayal that inspired despondency and grief, and it stunned Kazuichi that he could feel that way about Gundham. Over and over again in the simulation, he'd fashioned Gundham to be his rival. But with Sonia no longer his unrequited love, he suddenly questioned what role Gundham had in his life. What role did this man have—this man who was charging towards him with an unmatched force of character?  
  
Before he could fully process how he felt, he became aware that Gundham was closer and time was short. Kazuichi rushed to the door, but Gundham was quicker even without his minions. Grabbing the back of his jumpsuit, Gundham threw him inside and slammed the door shut with an ominous thud.  
  
Kazuichi landed next to a shelf. There was a pile of tools on the lowest one. Tools were always good for hitting things; he knew because it was the only way he’d gotten away from his father in some of their more dramatic fights. Kazuichi chose the wrench and swung as Gundham advanced.  
  
It was a direct hit to the eye socket Gundham had just broken.  
  
Gundham quite literally howled. He stumbled, clutching his face, but didn't fall. Kazuichi staggered to his feet and drew the wrench far back over his shoulder. He could do it. He could strike Gundham down and claim it was all self-defense. Nonetheless, something stopped him from delivering a finishing blow.  
  
"Don't come any closer!" Kazuichi warned him, praying that he sounded more confident than he felt.  
  
Handcuffed or not, Gundham could kill him. He knew that because he'd seen it first hand.  
  
Gundham's shoulders heaved and he drew up far too quickly. He fixed on Kazuichi with a predatory rage, the dim light catching his swollen eye. Gundham possessed a commanding presence, and according to his scowl, he saw Kazuichi as little more than a resisting five-year-old who wanted to stay up past his bedtime.  
  
Gundham slid forwards. Kazuichi took a swing. The wrench grazed the top of Gundham's head. He slammed his eyes shut. Time to go off of blind luck. Kazuichi swung a third and fourth time. If thin air had been the enemy, he would’ve been killed it. But as it happened nothing could stop the charging bull that was Tanaka the Forbidden One. Against his better judgment, Kazuichi pried his eyes open again.  
  
Everything slowed as Gundham made his meticulous approached. Details sprung out: the depiction of an eye on Gundham’s forehead, loose hair curving back with the momentum, the tightness in his jaw. Everything was in perfect focus like in one of Mahiru’s propaganda shots.  
  
Spreading his legs, Gundham shoved Kazuichi and snapped his arms to his side. The thin chain holding the handcuffs together fractured.  
  
Oh, that was not a good sign.  
  
Gundham seized Kazuichi's arm and wrenched it behind his back. His arm wrapped around Kazuichi's neck. Even through the fabric of his shirt, Kazuichi could feel his muscles flexing, keeping a firm grip. Kazuichi struggled as best as he was able to, kicking and jerking and even biting, but it was like fighting against a stone wall. Nothing could phase Gundham.  
  
“I promise you will thank me for this,” said Gundham.  
  
“Thanks for nothing!” Kazuichi grunted.  
  
A great deal of struggling later, Gundham wrestled Kazuichi into a chair and cuffed his wrists to the armrests. Amazing how many of those they kept around. Kazuichi fought both Gundham and surfacing memories of watching Gundham in combat. He was powerless. After all, this was the man who'd bested Nekomaru as well as been entrusted with Ultimate Despair's most treacherous assignments. A man who'd been trusted to kill them all if it came to that.  
  
"What are you doing?" Kazuichi demanded. "You gonna kill me?"  
  
"It won't come to that," Gundham said confidently. He turned from Kazuichi and searched through the shelves, tossing boxes of ammunition and supplies to the floor. "The video will correct your mind."  
  
“Video? What video?”  
  
“Lady Enoshina’s brainwashing video. The one she used to—”  
  
“—To kill the...to pull people into despair,” Kazuichi breathed.  
  
For the first time that Kazuichi could remember, Gundham gave him his undivided attention. The hand reaching for the shelf froze, the fingers curled, the tension bleeding off of them.  
  
Instead of responding, Gundham waited. What was he waiting for? But Kazuichi's mind gave him the answer. His stomach plummeted like someone had just pulled out the bottom and he was in a free fall. A rush of recollection, and suddenly he saw Junko standing before him, lucid and clear and far too real.  
  
Bodies falling from the tower. Flames licking the smoke-covered sky. Junko laughing. Always laughing on that one pitch, higher and higher until only mutts could hear it. She called it her masterpiece—her inspiration. A way to convert and control and divide the world. A nuclear weapon that couldn't kill, but could do much worse: it could twist the mind.  
  
"The brainwashing video," Kazuichi breathed. Pain shot up in his chest and he lurched forwards, feeling like he was about to vomit his gut all over the floor. "The ones she sent to—to the Reserve Course."  
  
"Yes, that is correct," Gundham confirmed.  
  
Another wave of recollection blasted through his head. His fingers dancing over Junko's phone, preparing the emails.  
  
"I helped her," he breathed. "I helped her set it up."  
  
"Also correct. With luck, viewing the video will show you the truth and you will recognize the righteousness of our path."  
  
Sweat dripped down the back of his neck. "No! No, you can't do that! I can't watch it!"  
  
"This is not a debate."  
  
Kazuichi tugged against his restraints. If he just had a tool he could snap them so easily. Maybe if he kept Gundham distracted and talking he could think of a plan.  
  
There was no way in hell he'd survived a killing game just to get brainwashed in some forgotten bunker.  
  
"Did Junko show us the video?" Kazuichi asked. "Is that how she got us?"  
  
"Of course not." Gundham let out a low, breathy noise that sounded like a chuckle. His attention was refocused on the shelves. "It was not necessary. Lady Enoshima only used it on those who did not understand us. It was not necessary to use it on her willing servants and comrades, but it may be the only means to reverse the damage the memory loss has done."  
  
“Damage?” Kazuichi snorted. “I’m happy the way I am, thanks.”  
  
“You say that out of ignorance. That can be corrected. Cursed infidels! Where did they put it?”  
  
"You don't have to do this," said Kazuichi. The words spilled out of him and twisted on the floor, mocking him for his attempts to touch the untouchable man.  
  
"Are you lecturing me?" His voice remained steady but soft. Almost prodding. Then, he spat out an odd sound that resembled a laugh. "Oh, the irony of this is not lost on me! Kazuichi Soda is lecturing me! Surely you don't believe Makoto Naegi's false promises."  
  
"He can help us," Kazuichi asserted. "Hina can help us. Ultimate Despair is dead. You don't have to do this!"  
  
"Ultimate Despair is not dead."  
  
Gundham advanced on him, grabbed the armrests, and leaned in so they were nose-to-nose. Kazuichi pressed back into his chair, sure that anyone on the island would be able to hear his racing heart.  
  
"So long as we live, Ultimate Despair is not dead," said Gundham. "Amnesiac or not, all fifteen of us are the embodiment of Lady Enoshima's will. Repentant or not, Ultimate Despair will not die. The video will awaken you. Soon you will not have to live in this slumber—this half-formed life Naegi has fooled you into believing is worthwhile. Soon it will be over."  
  
Gundham retracted. Kazuichi swallowed and searched for his voice. When he found it, it came out as a warble. "You didn't kill Nekomaru for it to end like this.”  
  
"I haven't the time to entertain you," Gundham snapped. He returned to the shelves and started pulling things out in a much more desperate manner. "Whatever motivated me to murder Nekomaru, I promise that it was purely in the name of despair."  
  
"Sonia and Hajime didn't think so. They think you killed Nekomaru to try to save us, and—actually, you're still a douchebag for killing him. Seriously, what the fuck?! But—But that's not the point! We were locked in the Funhouse without any food and we were gonna starve to death unless there was a murder. So you and Nekomaru duelled. You fought it out. And—And then you won, and—"  
  
"I am not interested in your ramblings—ah! Behold! The work of Lady Enoshima!"  
  
Gundham pulled a case out of the shelf. In it was an assorted pile of DVDs, which he fished through before pulling one out.  
  
"Fuck," Kazuichi breathed. "Gundham, you can't do this. I don't want to go back to that life."  
  
"You are not yourself, so I forgive you for your transgressions," said Gundham. "Sit there and stay silent so that I may relieve your pain."  
  
“I don’t want this—I don’t want this—I don’t want this!”  
  
Gundham pushed television over. There was a DVD player with it. Of course there was. All hopes of neither being in working condition were dashed when Gundham successfully turned both on. His back was to Kazuichi; if he was going to do something now would be the time.  
  
Kazuichi did the only thing he could do. He kicked Gundham's ass.  
  
Gundham stumbled into the television, which hit the floor with a tremendous crash, which sent the trolley flying across the room, which sent it slamming into a shelf. The contents of the shelf—canned food and other preservatives—rained down.  
  
While laughing, tears poured out of Kazuichi's eyes. Who knows if they were from relief or finding humour in the situation.  
  
"I've always wanted to do that," he preened.  
  
"Insolent fool!" Gundham roared. "You bring disgrace to the name of Junko Enoshima!"  
  
“Fuck you!” Kazuichi spat.  
  
With a jolt and a twist, Gundham backhanded him.  
  
Disgrace. The word infected Kazuichi. In his panicky state of mind, he almost thought to protest. Then he caught himself, remembered that he didn't want to go down that path again, and tried to neutralize the infection before it spread. It was too late. In a matter of heartbeats, the word reached his bloodstream. He stood idly before the gates of hell, where Junko waited, urging him to drift back into her bosom.  
  
It was the easier path.  
  
With despair, he'd known where he stood. Now he teetered on the cliff, unsure of where he was going to land: the too-hard ground or the impenetrable pit of Ultimate Despair.  
  
It wasn't without a bit of irony that he realized that he was a disgrace. He was a disgrace to Hajime, who wanted him to be stronger than this. He was a disgrace to his parents, who he knew had to be dead. He was a disgrace to Hope's Peak. Ultimate Disgrace seemed to be a better talent for him.  
  
Gundham rubbed the spot Kazuichi had kicked and sauntered over to the trolley. His scowl was prominent, just like his allegiances.   
  
"You have done nothing to prevent what will happen," said Gundham. "The television does not appear to be broken. Your actions change nothing."  
  
"This isn't what you fought Nekomaru for," Kazuichi breathed, latching onto his windswept thoughts as if he could float off with them. "You fought each other to save the rest of us. When you want to Strawberry Tower, you just wanted to save us."  
  
“...Strawberries.”  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Strawberries," Gundham repeated. His voice was low. His back was to him. Then, slowly, as if testing the waters, he said: “Strawberry...Tower."  
  
Kazuichi toppled the chair onto its side. He didn't register the striking pain in his shoulder, nor did he react when Gundham gurgled a protest. Luck had seen his fingers just within reach of the discarded wrench. He pulled it just close enough so that he could get a good grip on it, turned the tool around to hook it around the chain, and jerk it. The chain holding the cuffs together was so worn and degraded that it only took a small amount of force for them to snap.  
  
He hoisted himself up just enough. Gundham's reflexes had slowed; he hadn't recovered from whatever had stirred up his mind. Regardless, he was in reach.  
  
The attack had a much more satisfying effect than his previous attempts. The wrench struck the unbroken side of Gundham's face, right between his forehead and his eyebrow. He stumbled back, tripped, and his legs flew up as if God had just reached down and grabbed him by the ankles.  
  
The back of his skull slammed into the shelf.  
  
It was a rather impressive sight, watching Tanaka the Forbidden One hit the floor like a dead weight. But it was a sight Kazuichi didn't have time to revel in. He used the wrench to snap the chain on his other wrist and clawed at the ground in his hurry to get to his feet.  
  
Without looking back, he burst into daylight and sprinted as fast as he could down the path, running back into shadow as the jungle foliage covered him. He didn't have to look back. He knew Gundham. He knew that he had to be playing pretend, that he had to be on his feet and in pursuit and prepared to spill blood this time. Adrenaline pumped through him as fast as Monokuma gave out a new motive for murder. Not the nice kind of adrenaline, though. The kind that inspired terror, the kind that reminded him that if he didn't move he would be another footnote in history.  
  
The foliage cleared. Back into daylight. He skidded to a halt.  
  
Kazuichi had come to the cusp of the forest where the jungle turned into endless beach, one without a single shred of the Tragedy evident. His heart throbbed in his ears, and he dared to turn, certain that he was about to see Gundham charge at him like a bull.  
  
There was no Gundham, no sign of pursuit, and for some insufferable reason it wound up his stomach. Nothing but the forest graciously caressed by the tropical breeze.  
  
Kazuichi swivelled on his heel, chest heaving. He waited and there was nothing.  
  
Why did it bother him?  
  
He and Gundham—they had been comrades back in the day, tolerant of each other if not genial. The guy had just tried to kill him. Maybe not in a physical sense, but certainly in a spiritual one. Gundham had had every intention of purging Kazuichi of his personality, his hopes, his dreams, his memories. In a sense, Gundham was no better than Junko.  
  
Then again, none of them were.  
  
Presently, a series of decisions laid out before Kazuichi. He could leave Gundham where he was, return to the house, and return with back-up. Akane-shaped back-up sounded pretty good at the moment and letting Gundham suffer a little didn't particularly bother him.  
  
Well, not much at least.  
  
Maybe a little.  
  
Kazuichi wondered when he had started feeling some level of sympathy for Gundham: if it had been in the simulation or during their Despair days.  
  
Either way, he knew Hajime would never leave a friend alone, and he did tend to lead by example.  
  
Kazuichi was the last to admit that he wasn't perfect. He wanted to run. Instead, some compelling force drew him back up to the forest path, where he trekked to go wake the sleeping giant.

* * *

 

**FAN ART FEATURE**

by [karbonatedsouda](http://karbonatedsouda.tumblr.com/)  
IT'S PERFECT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK.
> 
> I DIDN'T GO ANYWHERE BUT I'M BACK ANYWAYS.
> 
> I really need to apologize for taking so long...I know I was really slow and to be honest it's likely to happen again in the future. I have a really strict policy when it comes to writing: I try to make my chapters as highest quality as I'm capable of doing. I know I'm not perfect. I know I make a lot of mistakes, but I still try my best...Lord knows I put more effort into my writing than into anything else in my life, ha ha. And if that means taking a long time to do a thing, that's fine as long as it's good. I don't like shoving out chapters like I know some authors do, so if I take a while...please know that I'm sorry and I'm just trying to do my best.
> 
> It didn't help that this chapter was such a drag to do, and at the end of the day I'm still not 100% happy with it. It's so contrived! I feel like characters are out of character, the action is just gross, and I just want to facepalm just rereading it, even though I think I could practically recite it from memory at this point. Yeah. As usual I'm not happy with it but it's a chapter that needed to be written, so...here it is.
> 
> I'm ready to crawl under a hole and die. But I hope you guys liked it and I'll try not to take so long with the next instalment. I understand this chapter might leave some people with a few questions and I hope to have them answered in the next chapter.


	8. Don't Feed After Midnight

**PAST**

"You know how to ruin everyone's fun!"  
  
Fuyuhiko lulled his head to the side, body heavy and limp. His temple throbbed and every heartbeat rippled like waves eroding the shoreline. He realized, then, that he'd failed. Something not entirely unexpected, but stung nonetheless. If Natsumi was alive, what would she think of him now?  
  
Just imagining her disappointment killed him more than anything else.  
  
Struggling against the haze of partial consciousness, Fuyuhiko did what he always did: he fought. He fought to resist the temptation of retreating back into the void.  
  
His vision cleared. It was pitch black except for a small red light. He focused on that, because better to focus on the light than the voice. It was a poisonous, articulate voice he knew all too well, someone he had come to both revere and fear. Her breath was warm in his ear.  
  
 “Aw, you got all beat up,” Junko cooed. “Well, you're better off than Gundham. That guy's gonna need some stitches!"  
  
He didn't answer that, partially because he didn't want to give her the satisfaction. However, he couldn't resist asking a nagging question.  
  
"What...What are you doing here?" Fuyuhiko stammered. "You're supposed to be in the shelter with the rest of the 78th class.”  
  
"Mukuro's fat ass has me covered for a few hours," said Junko. "Heh, when she puts her mind to it, she's almost capable, y'know? I'll sneak back before dawn and no one'll know I was out in the first place! Well, except for Kyoko—but that can be fixed with a few zaps to the ol' brain! Besides, when Peko-Peko told me that you'd gone off your meds, I had to see it for myself!"  
  
Junko slid into view. There were so many ways to describe Junko. Tall and luscious. Come-hither blue eyes and supple lips. Satisfying symmetrical from every angle. Poisonous enough to kill ten thousand men.  
  
All that, and the only thing he could say to her was: “I don’t take meds.”   
  
"Aw, it's good to know that you sense of humour is still in tact. Now stay put while I check the camera angle.”   
  
Fuyuhiko squinted. Against the darkness, a small, red light jumped out on him. The light was attached to an all-too-familiar, slightly battered video camera.  
  
He pulled at his arms. They were secured with restraints attached to a metal chair. Fuyuhiko only bothered fighting once before giving up, knowing that he could never hope to escape, not with Junko there. He recognized the room. It was a dank, unwelcoming place in one of their hideouts, a place that had seen many souls come and go.  
  
This was where his father had died.  
  
It was the only reason Junko was using it.  
  
"Why are you recording this?" Fuyuhiko croaked. Junko didn't make a habit of recording tortures unless she had a reason.  
  
"For the entertainment value," Junko answered. "Well, that's one of the reasons. You flipping your lid got me thinking: what would happen if all my little Ultimate Despairs started running amok? I gotta show them what'll happen if you guys don't do what you're told. So you get to set an example for them, 'kay?"  
  
 Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Fuyuhiko participated in the making of a torture video. However, being the victim instead of the torturer was new.   
  
“Okay, we’re live!” Junko chimed. She moved in front of the camera and flashed a peace sign. “Hey, all! This is Junko Enoshima reporting live from the Tragedy. This just in: Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, the Ultimate Killjoy, tried to go no the run and flip a bird to my despair-inducing tragedy! And now, to Mr Kuzuryu  
  
 She hurried behind Fuyuhiko’s chair and seized his chin to force him to look to the camera.  
  
“Mr Kuzuryu, please enlighten our audience,” she cooed, caressing his cheek with one long, delicate finger. He jerked his head away. “Why would you want to suck the joy out of everything and totally run away with your tail between our legs? I thought we had something special!”   
  
Fuyuhiko bowed his head and allowed himself to fall limp against the restraints.   
  
“C’mon, play along here,” Junko pouted. “You’re making me look bad.”   
  
“Fuck you!”  
  
“Pft, you wish.”   
  
“Junko...if our friendship ever meant anything to you, just fucking kill me already.”   
  
“Ugh, that’s boring. B-O-R-I-N-G. It’s like an execution without a class trial—all payoff and no build-up at all. It’s like throwing in a plot twist that wasn’t foreshadowed to. It’s like watching the climax without the rest of the movie. It’s like the orgasm without the sex!”   
  
“I get the idea.”   
  
“No, I don’t think you do, Babyface. Here I go to the trouble of planning a glorious Tragedy for you guys and this is the thanks I get? Now—since I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you three guesses.”   
  
“Three guesses? Three guesses to what?”   
  
“To tell me why you ran for the hills when I needed you most, of course. So do tell: why did you try to run away?”   
  
“I couldn’t stand to look at your fucking face anymore.”   
  
“That’s the wrong answer. You have two more tries."  
  
“I had a prior engagement.”   
  
“That’s two. One more try or you won’t get the special bonus prize. MAXIMUM EFFORT, FUYUHIKO! GO!”   
  
Fuyuhiko wavered. Whether he answered or not, Junko was going to do something horrible and possibly crippling to him. They weren't going to get to the nasty part that easily. Junko didn't like the easy way.  
  
“I’m not putting effort into anything,” Fuyuhiko said.   
  
In an instant, Junko transformed from a perfect, buoyant high school girl to the greatest psychopath of their generation. Light glinted in her eyes, though that didn’t make them any brighter.   
  
“Guess I’ll have to tell you for myself,” said Junko. She bent down so her cleavage hung in his face. “Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu got fucking scared. And after everything we’ve been through, too. We started the Tragedy together. You killed your family for me. Is this how you repay your debts, Fuyuhiko? What happened to your whole eye-for-an-eye philosophy?”   
   
“What do you want me to say?” Fuyuhiko groaned. “You made me think that this is the kind of world I wanted. It isn't.”   
  
“Aw, don’t be like that! I know you only got started into the whole despair business to impress Peko, but gosh darn it all! Deep down inside I know you secretly love watching it all burn.”   
  
“I’d love watching _you_ burn.”   
  
“Charming sentiment, but you’re dodging the subject."  
  
Junko went to the back of the chair, fully exposing him to the camera. She gripped his shoulders in her claw-like fingers, one fake nail tapping up and down.   
  
“So you were fucking scared out of your mind,” she said.   
  
“Something had to bring about that revelation. After all, we haven’t had a problem up until this moment, have we? So how about you tell your fellow Despairs why you went all AWOL.”   
  
He couldn’t answer. His mouth went dry, the truth caught on his tongue, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to say it. If he did, he would be humiliated—and that was what Junko wanted.  
  
 “Because...” he started. “Because I...”   
  
 Junko raised her finger and raked it down his cheek. Fuyuhiko felt the skin break and a thin trickle of blood follow his jawline.   
  
“Because I...” Fuyuhiko began again. Deep breath. “Because I fucked Peko.”   
  
“Pft, as if,” Junko cackled and pinched his cheek. “More like Peko fucked you. I had you pegged for a guy into dominant girls—super kinky! That’s not all there is to it, right?”   
  
“...No...”   
  
“Then finish the sentence and drag your dirty laundry all in front of your friends. Peko fucked you... _and...”_   
  
 Breathe in. Breathe out. “And I thought it meant something.”   
  
“The scandal! Fuyuhiko sleeps with the one person in the world he should have never slept with. Why, sleeping with your own twin would’ve been preferable to your bodyguard banging you. Aw, man! Now I’ve got a craving for some hot, sweaty twincest. But I digress, no one’s judging you, little guy—I know you don’t have the heart to be top.”   
  
 Junko sniffed and acted as though she was wiping away a tear.   
  
“My little guy’s finally reached sexual maturity. I’m so proud!”   
  
“Fuck off already,” he said without much steam.   
  
“C’mon, Peko does not care,” Junko scoffed. She rounded the chair again, her undivided attention trained on him. She bent at the hips like a Barbie doll, her hands on her hips, her smile curved into its characteristic cheshire-cat grin. “I guess that was the point, wasn’t it? You were just Peko’s plaything and she tossed you aside like garbage after the deed was done! It’s so deliciously despair-inducing! Don’cha want to tell all your friends about your angst?”   
  
“Why are you doing this?” Fuyuhiko moaned.   
  
 Junko threw her hair back. “Oh, Fuyuhiko—all this time and you still don’t get the whole point of torture. I’m dragging you through the mud here! Now, if you got something you want to say to your fellow Despairs, just go ahead and say it.”  
  
Fuyuhiko never cried. His father had beaten that out of him when he was still a child, unaware that he was going to grow up to fall in love with his best friend, outlive his sister, kill his parents, and fancy himself a tyrant. Tears were for the weak and spineless. He'd once thought that Junko had understood that. How foolish he'd been. Junko only ever understood thing: and that was what it was like to be powerful.  
  
Swallowing his inclination to either swear or burst into tears—maybe both—he leaned against his restraints and stared at the floor. Now could be his one chance. One defiant act against Junko. Maybe it would be enough.  
  
 _Crunch._  
  
Fuyuhiko looked up. Junko was eating a bag of chips. She gave him a don't-let-me-interrupt-you wave, and he went back to wallow in his own misery.  
  
"I can't," Fuyuhiko admitted. "I can't...I can't do this—this anymore. Burning the world. Hope's Peak recruited us because we were the future, not because we were going to destroy it."  
  
“Get to the fun part!” Junko demanded.   
  
“Are you going to let me fucking talk?!” Fuyuhiko snapped.   
  
“That’s it!” she egged on, like a director urging on her best actor. “Do it with passion!”   
  
With a sigh, he continued, "I thought Peko and I could be closer. But she was just...she just wanted despair, to destroy our friendship. She used me. It wasn't about us. It wasn't about us being closer. It was about despair, like it always was. I believed in despair because I—I got some sort of sick satisfaction of destroying everything my family had created and wiping the slate clean. I wanted to impress Peko, and—and later, Junko, too. Killing my parents was payback for everything they did to me, my sister, and Peko. Torching Hope's Peak was revenge for them not doing more to investigate Natsumi's death, for brushing it off like she was just some Reserve Course wannabe not worth their time."  
  
He searched for his voice, and somewhere in the well-buried corners of his soul, he found his courage. He faced the camera.   
  
“This needs to stop,” he said. “This isn’t about me or Peko or Junko—I’m just—I’m just tired. There’s no point to any of this. I just want to—”   
  
“Ugh, blah, blah, blah!” Junko groaned. “This isn’t the movie I wanted to see! BOO!”   
  
She threw some chips at him.   
  
“Fuck, can’t I get a few more words in?!” Fuyuhiko demanded.   
  
“Not if you’re gonna waste this all on some spiel about how I’m the devil or whatever,” Junko scoffed. She rose to her feet and approached him once more, grabbing either side of the armrest and putting her face right up to his. He could smell her strawberry scented chapstick. “Peko took your virginity and it didn’t mean a goddamn thing to her. Isn’t that the least bit despair inducing for you?”   
  
“You...You manipulated her,” said Fuyuhiko. “She turned her into what she is now!”   
  
“Oh, God!” Junko cackled. “You are priceless, Fuyuhiko. I didn’t turn Peko into anything. The only thing I did was make her see just how miserable and rotten the world really is, but it’s not like that’s a bad thing, right? I mean, what’d the world be without a little despair in it?”   
  
“A fucking great world. A fucking utopia!”   
  
“Didn’t ask for your opinion, dumbass,” Junko smacked the back of his head. “Point being—I’m not responsible for a fucking thing Peko thinks or does.”   
  
All at once, her demeanour switched to one composed and logical. She pushed a set of glasses up the bridge of her nose.  
  
“Show of hands, class,” she said authoritatively. “Who turned Peko into the woman she is today?”   
  
_“You.”_   
  
“I’m sorry, that answer is incorrect. The correct answer is: Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu.”   
  
“THAT’S NOT TRUE!”   
  
Her personality switched to her default one again, luscious and smug. “Isn’t it? Everything Peko-Peko’s ever done in her life has been for your sake. I would’ve thought you’d be happy that she chose you to be her boy toy. It’s one of the few independent decisions she’s ever made. Probably the best one, actually.”   
  
“Peko has made plenty of independent choices in her life. She’s not a robot!”   
  
“Huh? Oh, you’re adorable. You don’t get it, Fuyuhiko. You turned Peko-Peko into the woman she is today...by completely subjugating her and enabling her slavery. Congratulations! You’re a slave owner! Well, used to be.”   
  
“That’s not true!” he denied. “I didn’t ask for her!"  
  
“I’m sorry, was Peko your servant or not?”   
  
“She was my hitman. It was out of my control. We were paired together when we were infants—what was I supposed to do about it?! Throw a rattle at the nanny?!”   
  
“Huh. I guess your whole control issues are why you like it when she takes control.”   
  
“That is none of your business, and if I could move my hands right now, I’d—”   
  
“Yeah, yeah—strangle me, burn me, beat me. I know the drill, little guy. Point being, you may have been all don’t-be-my-slave-Peko, but really you liked it. Hey, riddle me this. This whole attitude you have isn’t because you’re trying to compensate for something, is it?”   
  
“You’re getting off topic.”   
  
“Yeah, I do that sometimes. I just can’t help myself! Anyways—sure, maybe you felt like you had an obligation to be all I-love-my-slave, but that ship’s sailed! Your dad’s dead! Practically every yakuza is deader than dead! And what do you do? You keep Peko-Peko by your side! Or rather...Peko keeps you at hers.”   
  
He squirmed against the restraints.   
  
“Who’s the real slave here, Fuyuhiko?” Junko smiled. “Is Peko yours or are you hers? If you ask me, it’s a bit of a grey area.”   
  
Junko melted into the darkness again. Fuyuhiko went limp against the restraints and focused on the floor, crusted with dried blood and other bodily fluids. Dizziness and nausea overtook all his other senses.  
  
"Anyways, now that we've established who's the slave here, let's cut to the chase," said Junko. "As enchanting as your dependency on Peko-Peko is, at the end of the day you both belong to something else—and that's sweet, glorious despair! You've both been walking side-by-side with it your whole lives. There's a world to burn out there and I need my little Babyface Yakuza to keep the army in line. There's really no one else like you. But, you did kinda go nuts, so I guess I gotta set a good example..."  
  
Her heels struck against the cement as she moved out of his line of vision. When she returned it was with a small table she placed down in front of him. On top of it, she lay a folded white handkerchief.  
  
On the handkerchief was a knife.   
  
“Pinky finger, left hand,” she said. “Off with it.”   
  
 Junko removed the restraints, but Fuyuhiko remained perfectly still, staring at his blurred reflection in the blade of the knife. Thoughts of resisting poured onto the cement floor and down the drain.   
  
“Did I stutter?” Junko said lowly. “You’re a yakuza—you oughta know the drill. You disappointed me. Off comes the finger. Better hope it’s the last, huh?”   
  
Fuyuhiko’s mind had slowed to a crawl. He didn’t answer.   
  
“No? Man, what a drag...”   
  
Junko skipped to the door and propped it open. She stood still for only a second when a familiar figure emerged, red eyes glistening and mane of dark hair floating behind him.  
  
“Whelp, he’s all yours, Izuru,” said Junko. “Cut the finger off and, um...I dunno, make him eat it after. Have yourself some fun with the guy. That should set him straight! Oh, and get Kazu to send me a copy of the vid—Hifumi’s fucking animes are burning a hole in my head.”   
  
“Understood,” Izuru replied flatly.   
  
“Lighten up, Izuru,” Junko cooed. “This might be good for you. Oh—is there anything left of Teruteru’s mom?”   
  
He nodded.   
  
“Gnarly! I’m starved! I’m gonna grab some food and drop in on Mikan before I head back.”   
  
“You’re not staying,” Izuru noted.   
  
“No, duh,” said Junko. “I’d rather catch the whole thing on video so I can fast forward through the boring parts, like when he loses consciousness. Just beat some despair back into the guy, ‘kay?”   
  
She blew Fuyuhiko a kiss. She left. Izuru entered. The door slammed.   
   
Fuyuhiko stared at the knife and wished he could use it to slice his wrists open. 

* * *

 

**PRESENT**

“Wake up.”   
  
Gundham's eyes shuddered open. He was looking at the kitchen ceiling, head leaning over the back of a chair. He knew because he'd spent far too long staring at it, contemplating all of the ways he could methodically kill the house residents. Turning his head a quarter to the right, he came face-to-face with Izuru, who sat uncomfortably close to him. Legs folded. Expressionless. The slightest lilt of annoyance in his voice. Behind him, the waning sunlight told Gundham that it was later in the day than it had been when he'd lost consciousness.  
  
Gundham jerked both his arms.   
  
He couldn’t move either.   
  
Blinking away the blurriness, he realized that he was sitting down in a wheelchair. His arms and legs were firmly secured with heavy, metal restraints. Kazuichi Soda’s handiwork was all over, but he only got a heartbeat of momentary confusion before overwhelming pain throbbed through his forehead.  
   
The memory resurfaced. It was one that had emerged while speaking to Kazuichi in the bunker, except somehow it was much more lucid than before, as if he was actually standing right in the middle of it.   
  
He stood in a tower, his heart yearning for battle. Before him was a machine like the ones Kazuichi was so fond of building. Strong emotion curdled in the pit of his stomach: resignation, power, and above all, determination. He was in the middle of an impossible situation, and he was filled with the determination to put an end to it.   
  
Then the memory ended, and he was back in the kitchen. Izuru sat expectantly before him.   
  
“What happened?” Gundham demanded.   
  
“Do you like the chair?” Izuru asked conversationally. “Kazuichi built it in under ten minutes. He doesn’t trust you.”   
  
“Let me out.”   
  
“No.”   
  
Gundham glowered, and said, “What happened, Kamukura?”   
   
“I should be asking you that. I told you to use that video to send Kazuichi into the throngs of despair.Instead, in an infinitely poor stroke of luck, he got the upper hand and knocked you out.”   
  
“He did not knock me out,” Gundham countered. “I must have slipped and struck my head.”   
  
“That’s not how Kazuichi described it, and for once he didn’t appear to be exaggerating.”   
  
Gundham paused and glanced around. “He brought me here?”   
  
“He tied you up and dragged you back here, against his better judgement. He was inclined to leave you in the bunker to rot.”   
  
“Kazuichi told you this.”   
  
“I guessed it. Kazuichi lied to cover up his noble intentions. He wants everyone to think he hates you, when he has some level of tolerance for your existence—unlike me.” Izuru paused, his eyes going into laser-focus. “I would’ve left you there. Thanks to your ineptitude, we’ve lost the only advantage we had against these cretins and they’re not likely to trust you again after today’s incident.”   
  
“What happened to the video?”   
  
“Kazuichi destroyed it; it’s the only sensible thing he’s ever done.”   
  
“N—No. Are you sure?”   
  
“He scratched the disc, then smashed it to be sure. I saw the pieces myself. He also brought back the other DVDs that were at the bunker. He was concerned another copy of the video would be among them. That’s not the case, but it’s good foresight on his part.”  
  
“Surely there’s another way to acquire the video.”   
  
“It’s an inconvenience. The Future Foundation has full control over most communications in the world and the internet hasn’t worked since the height of the Tragedy.”  
  
“An inconvenience for you?”   
  
“...I have the talent of the Ultimate Magician, but I can’t summon objects out of thin air. Junko was protective of that video. The only other physical copy that I know of is among her personal belongings at Hope’s Peak Academy, and if I were to leave this island to go get it, Hajime’s absence would be noted. We cannot risk exposure. So to answer your question: no. I can’t acquire of another copy of the video easily.” Izuru inhaled sharply. “You, Gundham Tanaka, are an idiot.”   
  
Gundham almost thought he saw a frown. Almost, because Izuru had recovered his composure as quickly as he’d lost it.  
  
“Tell me what happened in the bunker,” said Izuru.   
  
“I do not see why that is relevant,” Gundham snapped.   
  
“I want to ensure these circumstances won’t be repeated. Tell me what happened.”   
  
“I needn’t justify myself to you!”   
  
“Junko would want us to work together.”   
  
Gundham teetered on indecision, unsure if he was ashamed or alarmed or both. Either way, he knew that Izuru wasn’t going to give him peace without an answer.   
  
“I had a...recollection,” said Gundham. “I was confused and Kazuichi took advantage of the situation.”   
  
“A recollection,” Izuru repeated, cogitating on the words. “Of the Neo World Program?”   
  
“...Yes. A minimal one.”   
  
“Of what?”   
  
“...I am standing in a tower. A metal man stands before me. That is it.”   
  
Izuru’s brow travelled up his forehead, then slammed down like an elevator first rising, then free falling. Expression unchanging, he said, “I expected better from you.”   
  
“Silence! You have no right to judge me!”   
  
“You and your pitiful emotions have put us into a serious bind,” said Izuru. “I remember everything about the Neo World Program and it changes nothing. Does this memory alter your perception of Junko?”   
  
“Never! Lady Enoshima is everything!”   
  
“Then it doesn’t matter. But as a result of your thoroughly emotional actions, we won’t know if the brainwashing video will work on your comrades.”   
  
“Our comrades.”   
  
“Don’t put me on your level,” Izuru said with the slightest trace of impatience. Then, the impatience was gone and he was back to stoicism. “Hm. An unexpected outcome that had a minimal chance of occurring. That’s almost exciting. Kazuichi isn’t nearly as incapable as he appears—then again I did not know him before he fell into despair. Regardless, I’ll need to come up with a new plan to compensate for your inadequacy.”   
  
“It would be much simpler to kill them all and start Ultimate Despair anew.”   
  
“How boring,” Izuru sighed. “It would be more interesting to win a chess game without sacrificing a single piece. I’m not willing to kill them yet.”   
  
“That is not feasible. If we must sacrifice these survivors to ensure our own safety, I say do it.”   
  
“Is that really why you want to kill them? Or do you want to erase any trace of the Gundham Tanaka that was?”   
  
Gundham’s chest clinched.   
  
 “...There’s the answer,” said Izuru. “The only reason you want them dead is so you don’t have any reminders of the times before the Tragedy.”   
  
“Slanderer! None of that is true!”   
  
Gundham reached for him, only to get caught on the restraints.   
  
“You’re afraid of the memories of the Neo World Program,” Izuru continued. “The thought of returning to a life where Junko wasn’t a factor fills you with dread and fear.”   
  
“Hold your tongue!”   
  
“You’re afraid that Asahina’s intention to turn them back to the path of hope will succeed, and you’re afraid that you will be included. You’re afraid that the crack in Junko’s philosophies will widen with each passing day. You would rather die than live without her guidance. If this is the case, then you weren’t worth my time to begin with. Prove that your willpower is as strong as you claim it is. Harden your heart and manipulate these people as Junko once did, then maybe you’ll be worthy.”   
  
“You’re merely manipulating me as Lady Enoshima did to the world!”   
  
“Clearly you don’t understand my point, not that I expected otherwise. Junko was the only living being who ever truly understood me. Tell me, how far would you go to see Ultimate Despair revived?”   
  
“To the ends of the earth!   
  
“Then prove it.”   
  
Izuru suddenly stood up, attention transfixed.   
  
“I have a new plan,” said Izuru.   
  
“That was fast,” Gundham spat.   
  
“Underestimating me as always,” Izuru lamented. “Our options are limited. I’ll focus on reviving the ones who are comatose. Your task is to distract the others.”   
  
Gundham wanted to protest, but Lady Enoshima had given them all explicit instructions to adhere to Izuru. It was one of her final wishes.   
  
“And how," he seethed, “do you propose I do that?”   
  
“You don’t have Junko’s gift for manipulation. Clearly you can’t send them into despair through word alone. Therefore, distract them. Ensure that they don’t find out that I’ve fully recovered my memories as Izuru Kamukura. Sabotage them. Divide them. Break them if you must. When the time is right, we’ll go retrieve the video and that will remind them of who they are.”   
  
“I still say that starting fresh would be the safer choice.”   
  
“The safer choice? Perhaps. But not the more interesting one. Besides, I’m curious to see whose will crumble first: yours or theirs.”   
   
“Why do you treat this like a game? I am not your pawn!”   
  
“No. I’d say you’re more like a rook.”   
  
“I...I beg your pardon?”   
  
“A rook. A powerful chess piece, but not quite as formidable as the queen. You might want to make sure you stay that way.”   
  
Gundham’s head snapped up. Izuru hovered in the doorway, not looking back at him.   
  
“Just a piece of sound advice,” Izuru said simply. “I’m going to inform the others that you’re awake. Behave yourself when Kazuichi comes for you.”   
  
“After what I put him through?” Gundham scoffed. “I would like to see him try to approach me.”   
  
“...You underestimated him once. Don’t let it happen a second time.”   
  
Izuru left him alone.   
  
Gundham clamped his mouth shut and hid behind his scarf as best as he was able to, yearning for the reassuring warmth of the Four Dark Devas or the Twelve Zodiac Generals. That, or the blood of his enemies. Either was acceptable.  
  
Well, he’d better get to work on finding a way out of this situation. Izuru or no Izuru, there was no way he was going to stand for this—to be restrained in such a humiliating contraption. He tested his mobility. Gundham was incapable of moving either his arms or his legs; Kazuichi had made sure that they were tight. A little too tight. Maybe he’d done that on purpose. Twisting his right wrist, Gundham tried to see if he could move his hand to an upright position.  
  
“Hey, don’t mess with that!”   
  
At the edge of his peripheral vision, Gundham saw the markedly pale Kazuichi at the back door.  
  
“Afraid that I will escape?” Gundham seethed.   
  
“No,” said Kazuichi. “I built this. I know you can’t escape. I’m more worried about you tripping the alarm.”   
  
“The alarm?”   
  
“That’s right! A high-end security system! I based its design off of the one in the house.”   
  
Gundham glowered at him.   
  
“What? Tongue-tied all of a sudden? Since the goddamn day you got here, you haven’t shut up about despair—but now you don’t have anything to say? You’re not gonna criticize me for—for betraying ‘Lady Enoshima’ and you’re not describe how I’m a disgrace or whatever?”   
  
“As long as you’re internalizing those remarks, I have nothing to say,” said Gundham.   
  
“Oh, you son of a—you really are a piece of work. A piece of goddamn work!”   
  
Kazuichi paced in front of Gundham. To the right. To the left. His fingers crawled through his hair, his glasses went askew, his back hunched, and he muttered incomprehensibly. All were symptoms of a person wrestling with conflicting thoughts, pulling him back and forth and back again—always turning in a circle with no clear objective in mind.   
  
Finally, Kazuichi rounded on him.   
  
“I just passed Hajime on my way in,” said Kazuichi. “He said you remembered something. What was it?”  
  
“Why are you interested?” Gundham asked.   
  
“Because then maybe there’s some goddamn hope for you—not that I care, but everyone else does for some reason.”   
  
Gundham recounted the memory about the metal man and the tower.   
  
“Did you remember that in the bunker?” Kazuichi asked. “Is that why you got so weird all of a sudden?”   
  
“My memories don’t matter,” said Gundham. “This changes nothing.”   
  
“...I wanna know something.”   
  
“About what happened in the bunker?”   
  
“No, about something else.”   
  
Gundham considered this. Then, he said, “Speak.”   
  
“Why’d you do it?”   
  
“...You will need to be more specific.”   
  
“You have some memories of the simulation again, right? Do you remember why you did it? Why’d you kill Nekomaru? You could’ve killed any of us, but you chose him. Why?”   
  
“Clearly Hajime has given you a false impression. I only have a fleeting recollection of the simulation, not a detailed one. I cannot tell you why I would target Nekomaru above others.”   
  
“Then...I dunno...take a guess or something!”   
  
Gundham thought about it. “Nekomaru is the obvious choice.”  
  
“Obvious? You got some sick idea of who’s the obvious choice to murder. You had every opportunity to back out of killing him, you son of a bitch. But I guess I don’t know what I expected out of trash like you. You killed Nekomaru in cold blood. You showed no remorse during the trial, and you’re not even upset now, even though you’re the one who remembers all our school years!”   
  
“The rest couldn’t hope to match my skill. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.”   
  
“It wouldn’t be a fair fight, or would it just be too easy?”   
  
“I see you’re determined to be belligerent.”   
  
“That’s not exactly a novel concept. Everyone here might think that we can fix you or something. I know better.”   
  
“Do you?”   
  
“Don’t patronize me!” Kazuichi shrieked. “You tried to kill me! You’re damn straight I know better!”   
  
“I don’t recall taking that kind of action.”   
  
“You tried to wipe my brain and replace it with whatever despair does. I call that murder.”   
  
“I call that enlightenment.”   
  
“Murder.”   
  
“Enlightenment.”   
  
“Murder!”   
  
“ENLIGHTENMENT!”   
  
Gundham watched with acute interest as Kazuichi slammed his hands down on either side of the wheelchair and leaned forwards to scowl. The stench of motor oil caused Gundham’s nostrils to flare, as well as his temper and the inclination to beat the hope out of Kazuichi. They locked in an eye-to-eye tug-of-war, which he knew neither of them would be able to win.   
  
“I’m so done with you,” Kazuichi decided. “Buddies or not, I’m...I’m never talking to you again!”   
  
“And you are the paragon of restraint, Soda,” Gundham snarled. “You won’t last a day before you feel the inclination to insult me and my ancestors again! Let it be known that any slurs you utter against me will be redirected to you—tenfold!”   
  
“We’ll see about that! As of now, we’re not buddies!”   
  
“Agreed. Then we shall sit here in tense silence and glare at each other.”   
  
“Sounds good!”   
  
Kazuichi threw himself into the nearest chair and proceeded to stare at Gundham with a no-hands-barred glower.  
  
Gundham had a feeling that Kazuichi, at least, would be easy to distract. 

* * *

 

Kazuichi’s infernal ignore-Gundham-for-forever went went better than anticipated, even if it wasn’t as simple as avoiding one another. Gundham had no choice in where he went from then on; the only time he was allowed out of the chair was to go to the washroom or at night, when he was firmly tied to his bed. His movements were limited to the will of whoever was guarding him, and only Sonia was more lenient than the rest. Nobody had taken kindly to the perceived attempted murder.  
  
Although the others kept him in the dark about some of their activities, it was clear that they’d made trips back to the bunker to dismantle the weapons and supplies found there. Kazuichi was using the supplies to perform a final repair on the AI and the communications array in the cellar. Meanwhile, the other DVDs—the ones that had been among the despair video—were brought back to the house, though no one was really sure what to do with them. Nobody wanted to take the risk of watching them to see if there were any copies of the despair video, but they were also hesitant to destroy them—in case they contained personal memories.  
  
Izuru had swooped in at the last minute and suggested that they have the AI analyze the contents of the DVDs once it was back online. Everyone had agreed to the plan. Gundham wasn’t quite sure what his motivations were, but given his track record, it had to be something to further Junko’s plans. Until then, the DVDs sat in a cardboard box under the coffee table, happily forgotten by the rest of the household.  
  
Still, Gundham was baffled that the others made attempts to treat him with the utmost civility—with the exception of Kazuichi. Hina and Izuru made regular attempts to convince Kazuichi to talk to him. Fuyuhiko even chased Kazuichi up a tree in a fit of rage when the latter refused to cooperate. All the same, for someone so vehemently opposed to Gundham’s existence, Kazuichi was oddly interested in it. Gundham knew because the Ultimate Mechanic had evidently made it a personal mission to keep him under constant surveillance. No matter where he went, Gundham sensed Kazuichi not too far behind—watching and waiting for the moment when Gundham revealed his true colours.  
  
The others, for their part, remained more neutral, however cold and distant. The one exception was Sonia, whose rotations in guard duty were the only highlight of Gundham’s day.  He had forgotten how pleasing her company was; sometimes the Tragedy had forced them to work apart, so it was a nice change to be in near-hourly contact with her.  
  
One afternoon, they were sitting on the porch together when Sonia reached out and touched Gundham’s hand.  
  
“I would be most pleased if you and Kazuichi would be able to be friends,” said Sonia.  
  
“I am not the one who is being childish,” Gundham pointed out.  
  
“Perhaps if you apologized to him, Kazuichi would be friendlier.”  
  
“Apologized? I did nothing wrong! If anything, I should be thanked for attempting to free him.”  
  
Her face fell. “You truly believe that your cause is just given the state of the world? Does it not trouble you that we have destroyed countless lives?”  
  
“You, of all people, should understand putting the needs of the many above the needs of the few.”  
  
For the first time in who-knew-how-long, the Sonia Nevermind sitting before him looked familiar. Distress raked through her face and transformed that oh-so-untouchable face into one reeking of guilt and naked unhappiness. The expression disappeared far too quickly for his liking.  
  
By the time the next support group rolled around, the others were feeling more secure even with Gundham in the room. Cramped into the living room, Gundham thought that there was nothing more torturous than a bunch of royally fucked up people who couldn’t comprehend how fucked up they really were, all crammed together to talk about their feelings.  
  
In the excitement of the last few days, Gundham had forgotten about the group assignment, not that he was remotely interested in it. It wasn’t easy to do an assignment with a partner when said partner refused to look him in the eye, except to convey his utter dislike of him. During the meeting, Gundham did his best to occupy himself by thinking about the many ways he could kill Hina.  
  
It wasn’t so easy to tune out her annoyingly upbeat voice.  
  
“So let me get this straight,” Hina said. “All of your sisters are named Akane?”  
  
Akane nodded proudly. “Every last one. My parents weren’t very creative.”  
  
“That must’ve been quite confusing,” Sonia remarked. “What if you wanted to speak to a specific Akane?”  
  
“We were all numbered, of course,” Akane snorted, like the answer was obvious. “I’m Akane 1, then there’s Akane 2, 3, 4, and 5.”  
  
“Let me guess—your brothers were all called Akane too?” Kazuichi asked, determinedly looking past Gundham to study Akane’s reaction.  
  
“Pft, no, stupid! Akane’s a girl’s name! My brothers are called Akatsuya.”  
  
They all got a good laugh out of that. Gundham watched Hina’s face, and saw the small flicker of despondency present in her forced smile. She must still be humouring Akane’s belief that her siblings were alive.  
  
After the laughter died down and Hina helped herself to some more tea, she turned to Sonia and Fuyuhiko. They sat cross-legged on the floor.  
  
“So, what did you guys learn about each other?” Hina asked.  
  
Sonia looked around the room, then reached over and placed a hand on Fuyuhiko’s knee. He didn’t protest the contact.  
  
“Fuyuhiko and his sister were twins,” she revealed.  
  
“Wow, really?” Akane asked. “Is that true? How come you never said anything?”  
  
“It’s private—at least it was,” said Fuyuhiko. “But yeah, we were twins.”  
  
“It’s too bad Natsumi wasn’t a boy too, or else you could’ve traded places,” said Kazuichi.  
  
“I think the height would’ve given it away, dumbass.”  
  
Akane scratched her cheek. “If you and Natsumi were twins, does that make you an angsty surviving twin?”  
  
Fuyuhiko glowered. “That’s Ibuki-level insensitivity. I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”  
  
Kazuichi laughed. “That is something Ibuki would say, isn’t it? Damn, I kinda miss having her around—except for her music.”  
  
“Yes, it is unfortunate that she could never be persuaded to...shift genres,” said Sonia. She turned back to Fuyuhiko. “Tell them what you learned about me, Fuyuhiko.”  
  
“Eh, if you guys are looking for something groundbreaking or unexpected, think again,” Fuyuhiko said candidly. “I learned that her favourite spot back home in Novoselic was the hedge maze at the palace. She used to perform summoning rituals in there.”  
  
“Sadly, they never worked,” Sonia admitted. “Of course, in retrospect I realize that it was because I did not perform them during the proper moon phase.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Fuyuhiko drawled. “We’ve all made that mistake at one point or another.”  
  
Gundham couldn’t help himself. He laughed.  
  
“What’s so funny?” Fuyuhiko asked.  
  
“I have fond memories of that maze,” Gundham replied.  
  
“You...You went to visit it?” Sonia marvelled. “You have been to my country?”  
  
“Indeed I have.”  
  
Izuru glared at him.  
  
Gundham knew that glare. It was the one that preceded a mass murder. Time to change the topic.  
  
“Ask me no more of it,” Gundham added. “Reflecting on the times gone by only makes me nostalgic and deepens my shame to what you have all become.”  
  
“Oh my God!” Kazuichi shrieked. “Will you just shut up already?!”  
  
“I will never be silenced!” Gundham shouted back.  
  
“...I take it you two didn’t do the assignment,” Hina assumed.  
  
“Really?!” Kazuichi exclaimed. “That’s all you can think about?! Y’know, this is just so stupid! Why are we letting Gundham wander around? He’s dangerous. He’s dangerous to us. He’s dangerous to himself. He’s dangerous to anyone who’s unlucky enough to wander into his path! I don’t get why the rest of you think it’s okay to give him this much freedom.”  
  
“...He’s strapped to a chair with an alarm system that you designed. It’s not like we have a prison cell we can stick him in.”  
  
“We let Nagito walk around,” Fuyuhiko pointed out.  
  
“Friendly reminder that after Teruteru killed the Imposter, we tied him up.”  
  
“You wanted him to starve to death,” Akane remembered.  
  
“Did not! We just knew that after what happened with Teruteru that no one was safe with him gallivanting around the island. The only reason Nagito got out in the first place was because Monokuma let him go.”  
  
“So what are you suggesting we do?” Izuru asked.  
  
Hina leapt to her feet. Her teacup went flying. “A scavenger hunt!”  
  
Clearly even Izuru hadn’t expected that response. He blinked, mouth forming words but only managing a flat, “What?”  
  
“A scavenger hunt,” Hina reiterated. “That was the next activity I had in mind. It would promote teamwork and exploration of the island! Maybe it would even be enough to make you and Gundham cooperate, Kaz.”  
  
“For fuck’s sake,” Fuyuhiko groaned. “When are we going to do something that wasn’t made for kindergarteners?”  
  
“Would you rather listen to those two argue all day?” asked Hina. “C’mon, it could be fun! We might even find some useful supplies if we search the settlement.”  
  
“It could be fun, but it won’t.”  
  
“Don’t be so dismissive until you’ve tried it,” said Hina.  
  
“This isn’t goddamn summer camp!”  
  
“The simulation was kind of like summer camp and we went along with that,” Akane pointed out.  
  
“Yeah, Akane. It was a summer camp where at the end of it we were all killing each other! What’s next? Roasting Monokuma over a fire? Because that’s the only camp activity I’d actually go for.”  
  
“We should just go along with it,” Izuru said with the thinnest fabrication of emotion in his voice. Even the thinnest fabrication was enough to fool the idiots around them. “Hina has a point. We do need to do a thorough sweep of the settlement and pick over what hasn’t already been salvaged.”  
  
Fuyuhiko groaned and dramatically fell onto his back. “Yeah, who knows? Maybe we’ll find my dignity.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure we left that back in Tokyo.”  
  
Even louder groan.  
  
“It sounds like a splendid group activity,” said Sonia. “I have been informed that there are traditionally prizes at the end of a successful scavenger hunt. Will there be any for this one?”  
  
“I’m sure we can come up with something,” Hina answered. “Alright, then it’s settled. Hajime and I will set it up for tomorrow and we can make a day out of it.”  
  
Gundham made a mental note to make Hina’s death an especially painful one. With saws. And live animals. Tigers, maybe. Dogs if tigers were in short supply.

* * *

 

It was midnight.  
  
Gundham remembered the time Fuyuhiko had betrayed them, had fled like a helpless wretch trembling before his betters. It had taken far too long to subdue and bring him before Junko for punishment. He remembered watching the video. He remembered watching Fuyuhiko roll around helplessly in a chair, all-too-silent when his eyes screamed. It was in his eyes. That’s how they’d all known that despair had retaken Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu.  
  
It was a pity torture wasn’t an option, not when he was stuck in a chair.  
  
Gundham tested the restraints. Kazuichi was a little too good at what he did; he didn’t think he would be able to weasel his way out of this one, not without a little intervention. The only upside was that Kazuichi had left his mouth uncovered. Maybe if he concentrated enough, he could take a page out of Izuru and Junko’s book and talk his enemies into despair.  
  
No, not enemies—he corrected himself. Friends. He was trying to save his friends and it was his worst fucking nightmare.  
  
Sonia was supposed to be guarding him, but the night was playing out more like a strange sleepover. There hadn’t been any proper cable since the Tragedy, but DVDs still worked and Sonia had a healthy supply of her favourite Japanese soap operas. Far too many. Gundham had never had the heart to tell her that she needed to broaden her television tastes, maybe to something that involved less interpersonal drama. While she sat on the couch, with her legs folded and her hands clasped, he tried to distract himself from whatever nonsense they were watching by thinking about the mental death trap for Hina, something that would make Junko’s memory proud.  
  
While Gundham’s gaze wandered, he remembered the DVDs still kept under the coffee table. He wasn’t fully aware of what their contents were, but had suspicions. Probably videos of the mass executions, prototypes of the killing machines, and maybe even the video of Fuyuhiko’s torture. The box was moved just enough that Gundham could see the title written on the DVD at the front; ‘Novoselic’ was written in thick, black ink.  
  
One guess as to what was on that one.  
  
No matter. Izuru was counting on him to keep the others occupied. Still, Gundham had a feeling that it was more of an effort to occupy Gundham’s time as opposed to the others; Izuru certainly didn’t need help. He hadn’t needed it during the Tragedy and he didn’t need it now.  
  
“There is one advantage to having memory loss,” Sonia said as the credits rolled. “My favourite soap opera released two seasons during those years that I do not remember. Assuming I watched them during that time, it is like experiencing them all over again!”  
  
Gundham rolled his eyes. “Trust me, you have watched these before. I seem to remember that you used it as a torture method.”  
  
“I...do not that is possible,” said Sonia. “They are very enjoyable. I do not think they would be torturous.”  
  
“You would be surprised.”  
  
Her gaze wandered from the television. She studied him carefully, filled with apparent sadness.  
  
“I don’t understand why you’re so resistant to us,” Sonia commented. “We’re only trying to help you.”  
  
“Insolent fools,” Gundham snorted. “Do not speak of things you do not possibly understand, Sonia. It is abundantly clear that you toil in the abyss of confusion and lies. You do not live a truthful life.”  
  
Sonia sighed. “That is what I wanted to hear.”  
  
”I don’t know what else you expect,” said Gundham. “You’re better than this, Sonia. You’re better than them.”  
  
“Enough,” Sonia snapped.  
  
“No,” Gundham barked. “You do not understand, Sonia. This entire situation. All of you...you are all broken. Only through despair can you be repaired.”  
  
“You tried to kill Kazuichi!”  
  
“I tried to repair him!” Gundham snapped. Then, he added, “I would rather repair you than be forced to kill you.”  
  
To Gundham’s unending surprise, he meant it. His own words caught him off guard, and he fumbled in the uncertainty of emotions to regain his composure, all while Sonia watched him. Her stare was endless.  
  
“You believe you are helping us,” Sonia realized. “Can you not see that you are doing just the opposite?”  
  
“You are not yourself, Sonia,” Gundham insisted. “I promise that you will be restored to your former glory.”  
  
“There is no ‘glory’ in the life you describe.”  
  
“There is no glory in this one, either. What do you intend to do? Slave about in this house until the Future Foundation uncovers Naegi’s lie? Will you wait for them to arrest you all and slaughter your comatose friends? There is no hope in this life, Sonia Nevermind—only despair.”  
  
“We are not searching for glory,” Sonia avowed. “With all that has happened, we can only hope to live as normally as possible.”  
  
“In hiding?”  
  
Her hesitation was poignant and notable. She replied, “If necessary, yes.”  
  
“Why should it be that way?”  
  
“Because we have caused enough damage. It is better for Ultimate Despair to disappear, to fade into the history books. We will be remembered as monsters. But perhaps if we work hard enough, we can find small ways to help repair the world.”  
  
“Repair it? What kind of sorcery has taken hold of you?! This world was broken long before Ultimate Despair was born! We merely helped see the world for what it really was!”  
  
“I refuse,” Sonia seethed. “I refuse to believe that there can only be evil in the world. I will no longer contribute to that.”  
  
“You cannot go against human nature, Sonia.”  
  
“In the simulation, I refused to resort to murder,” said Sonia. “I survived the games because of that, although I had multiple opportunities to take a life. Perhaps cruelty is human nature, but if so, I will do everything within my power to resist those animalistic urges. Despite everything, I believe that you are capable of that as well.”  
  
“Then you are sorely mistaken,” he spat.  
  
Sonia searched his eyes. She raised a delicate hand towards his face, but seemed to think better of it and retracted it.  
  
“You are truly upset that I no longer abide by your philosophies,” Sonia mused.  
  
“Of course I am,” he said. “You are an asset to Ultimate Despair.”  
  
He mulled over the half-truth he’d just told her. Then, he realized that he would have to commit to more.  
  
“And more importantly, you are a dear friend to me,” said Gundham.  
  
At that moment, Sonia didn’t bother with equanimity. The flare of intent flickered out, and left behind a not-quite-sure Sonia, someone he wasn’t accustomed to seeing often. He could see her go over his words in her head, running them backwards and forwards and backwards again, still unable to fully digest what he had said.  
  
“Can...Ultimate Despairs even have friends?” she asked. Rather stupidly, he thought.  
  
“Fool,” Gundham fumed. “There is no despair unless there is a personal investment. When a friend dies, you feel sadness because you cared about them, yes? That is the taste of despair. It cannot possibly exist without...unfortunate attachments. You were an inspiration to us all, Sonia. We worked together on many occasions to do Lady Enoshima’s bidding. To me, you were second only to her.”  
  
“We were a good team?”  
  
“The best, and the others knew it. You were—are a commanding and capable woman, and you need to see the righteousness of our philosophies.”  
  
“Never,” said Sonia. “I’m sorry, Gundham. I care...I care a great deal about you. But you are wrong.”  
  
Damn. Gundham harkened back to what Izuru had told him about breaking their spirits. It looks like he was about to sink his teeth into his first victim—and he was starting with the most painful one. A part of him wanted to preserve Sonia’s memory like she was right now, delicate but angelic and strong, the epitome of subtle strength. Still, for the greater good, he was too committed to back out now.  
  
It tasted of despair. The familiar rush of both regret and joy trembled through his body.  
  
Gundham leaned forwards as far as he could to stare her right in the eye.  
  
“We stood side-by-side and watched the hedge maze burn,” Gundham imparted. He leaned in close and whispered into her ear. “Your parents were hopelessly lost within. We could hear them screaming.”  
  
Everything about Sonia shivered and awoke, as if from a long slumber. When they pulled apart, her eyes were watery and red-rimmed, shining in the dim light.  
  
“N—No!” she croaked. “W—Why would you say something like that?!”  
  
“You do not believe me,” Gundham noted. Not a criticism, but just as a statement. A unfortunate reality in the world they lived in.  
  
“No, I—I would never do that! You’re lying!”  
  
“Your mother and father left you to be raised by nannies and tutors, instilling in you a sense of duty and little else.”  
  
“That’s not true!”  
  
“You once told me that they were not unloving, but such physical distance was placed between you and them that you ached for normalcy. You befriended scullery maids, guards, and chefs—and when you were unable to save them with despair, you had them slaughtered. Perhaps you did not kill like the rest of us, but you ordered the deaths of thousands. They were records you were proud to claim, and you never let us forget that you ordered the deaths of the King and Queen of Novoselic to claim your title.”  
  
“THAT ISN’T SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF!” Sonia exclaimed. Tears now fell freely from her pearly eyes. “W—Why are you doing this?! Why are you lying to me?!”  
  
“I have never uttered a lie to you,” Gundham assured her. “You are the only Ultimate Despair aside from Lady Enoshima who deserves utmost respect. It is painful to see you ingratiating yourself to these people, when you should easily rise among them in terms of rank. I care because you’re a vial of wasted potential in this position, and because you are second only to Lady Enoshima. I care because you are valuable. I care because it’s pitiful to see you falling for Asahina’s lies.”  
  
“Hina has never lied to me.”  
  
“Sonia,” he said. He would have to do this the hard way. “Has Asahina told you what happened to Novoselic? Has Naegi? Have any of them?”  
  
Sonia blinked, and he saw the exact moment she became ensnared, the moment when she looked at him like he was the only thing on the planet. The confusion was blatant, and oddly unsatisfying to Gundham. It troubled him. But he pushed that aside, as her face morphed from uncertain to curious.  
  
“Hina and Makoto never lied to me,” she reiterated.  
  
“I have proof to the contrary,” Gundham professed. “Is your faith in them so vehement that you would refuse to acknowledge irrefutable evidence?”  
  
She couldn’t answer him. She hung forwards, her golden locks concealing her face. He knew her had her. One, sweet victory—for Junko, for despair, for their cause. It was a victory against the vicious forces of Makoto Naegi and his false promises to reignite the spirit in the world. Most importantly, it was a victory for Sonia Nevermind, who didn’t know that she’d lost her true self, and who was about to rediscover it in a painful, most-despair inducing manner.  
  
“Sonia,” he pressed. He wished he could reach out and take her hand. His eyes flickered to the DVD with the word ‘Novoselic’ written on it, and—never taking his eyes off of it—he said, “There is something you should see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH LORDY. SWEET JESUS.
> 
> Why can't I help but torture these characters?
> 
> I mean, I'm not a bad person, I think. I mean for the most part. I cry whenever I hear that a cat's been killed or hurt for crying out loud. But when it comes to my faves, gosh darn it all I just can't help myself!
> 
> Okay, so I'm sorry for my long absence from this story. I got writer's block on this thing for a while, and then I had another story in a different fandom that I really wanted to finish. The good news is that the aforementioned story is finished! So maybe I'll be able to update AADRP a little more consistently now that I have no other fanfiction obligations, ha ha. I SAID MAYBE. We all know I'm terrible at keeping promises.
> 
> So, straight talk here. I’m not happy with this chapter. I know that’s not exactly a surprise, but I hate most of what I write, so some honest criticism and comments would be very much appreciated!
> 
> Soooo also, sorry for the heavy Sondam heavily implied in this chapter. But Sondam's not going to happen, I didn't misspell anything. If anything I'm currently in the process of completely destroying Sondam. Sorry to Sondam lovers, I'm actually okay with Sondam, I just—I just ship Soudam more, okay?
> 
> This is a Soudam story, just so achingly slow burn that I don't even know what I'm doing at this point.
> 
> Also, since I last worked on this fic, NVDR3 has come out. I haven’t played the game and don’t plan to until the English localization, because gosh darn it all, I just like things that are in my native language and I am a horrible person. I’ve had a heck of a time avoiding spoilers! I’d appreciate it if you guys didn’t make mention of spoilers in the comments if you have played it, or maybe fill the comments with fake spoilers, ha ha. Keep me guessing or something. Anyways, despite the length of time it took me to get this thing out, and despite my displeasure with my own writing...I plan to continue. I’m just that determined to get to the really juicy parts, and I’m not talking about the future smut.
> 
> That's right. I'm talking about the torture. The torture is the juicy bits.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me guys...we’ve had a few ups and downs but I’m looking towards the future to really push this story along.


End file.
